


you are half of me (and I am all for you)

by angelichl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Guitars, Idiots in Love, Indie Music, Living Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Music, Nail Polish, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Road Trips, Skinny Dipping, Sleeping Together, Smut, Stargazing, Summer, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-13 02:58:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19242436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelichl/pseuds/angelichl
Summary: One Direction, an obscure indie rock band, is about to embark on their first cross-country tour, living out of Louis' beloved van named Patricia.Harry is in love, and Louis is oblivious. Or is he?Featuring skinny-dipping in Texas waterfalls, getting lost in the desert, stargazing under the New Mexico sky, performing in front of crowds that grow in size each night, and falling in love on the road during the greatest summer of their lives.





	you are half of me (and I am all for you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [warmcuppatea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmcuppatea/gifts).



> Thank you SO much for the amazing prompts. It was so hard to choose - I love them all.
> 
> Also, a thanks to my lovely betas, who had to deal with me writing three different fics before scrapping them all and starting this one four days before it was due. Sorry. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> The title is from Florence Welch's "Useless Magic: Lyrics & Poetry."
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's a link to the Spotify playlist I listened to while writing this fic, and imagined Louis and Harry were listening to as well.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/27LXgC5xD1s1vpB7E0pA3W)
> 
>  
> 
> In terms of warnings, there's a bit of pre-show anxiety, and some recreational weed. If I forgot to tag anything, please tell me!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

Louis’ Bahama blue 1975 Volkswagen bus was his pride and joy. Her name was Patricia, or Patty for short, and she was his baby.

He never used to think of himself as a car guy, yet here he was. He and Patricia had been through a lot: from scouring junkyards for pieces to fix her up when she was at her lowest, to taking her out west one summer to follow his rock-climbing dreams, and so many other memories in between these lows and highs. Louis could wax poetic about her, but he refrained.

Niall always told him it was weird to be obsessed with a “stupid” van. Liam was too kind to call him out for his obsession at making sure she was up to date on all of the newest technologies and replacements, but Louis knew he was thinking the same thing. Yet whenever Louis fussed over her and earned Harry’s resulting fond smile, it was worth it.

“A little more to the left, please,” Louis requested, half his body under the van. Harry was squatting beside him with a flashlight in his hands, helping Louis replace a small part beside the engine. It was tedious work, but so necessary. Louis had never cared more for a vehicle in his entire life.

“That good?”

“Yes, perfect. Thanks, man. Almost finished.”

By the time the part was in place, Louis’ hands were covered in grease and he was sweating from working hard in the hot summer heat. It was evening, so the temperature was finally cooling down, but there wasn’t a breeze in the garage.

When he finally finished, his old t-shirt was soaked through and his palms were sweaty when Harry helped him up. He lifted his shirt to wipe off his face and thanked his best friend again for helping him.

“Everything good?” Harry asked, eyes catching on Louis’ exposed abdomen before flicking back up to his face.

“Yeah, she’s all ready now. Just did an oil change yesterday, too, so she should be all good for tour. Baby’s gonna get to see the whole country.”

Okay, so maybe the way he anthropomorphized his van was a little weird.

“Yeah, and so are we,” Harry said, smiling. It was a soft smile, one that Louis enjoyed very much. “The whole band, I mean,” he corrected awkwardly. “One Direction.”

He tucked a curl behind his ear and kept watching Louis, even though there was nothing to see.

“What is it?” Louis asked, grabbing his Nalgene and feeling the condensation on the cool plastic wet his palms. He opened the lid and took a few big sips, gazing appreciatively at his van. They were about to embark on a journey of a lifetime and Patricia would be the one to take them there.

“Nothing,” Harry said, a bit too rushed. He looked away from Louis and grabbed his own water bottle, backing away. He tripped over his own feet, banging into the metal cabinet with a loud clang, but it was such an ordinary happening that Louis ignored it politely so he wouldn’t embarrass him. “Let’s start loading her.”

More than lucky to have Harry as his best friend, Louis took a moment to appreciate the fact that they had been friends for five years now and nothing could ever separate them. They met their freshman year of college and immediately hit it off, spending each summer together because they didn’t want to be apart. They met Niall and Liam along the way, and that was how they started a band together.

Now they were staring down the start of the biggest summer of their lives. Just four guys from a small town in Georgia, they were about to go on their first cross-country tour, performing their music to their fans across the USA.

He and Harry started loading the van with everything they would need for the next three months. They wrangled Niall and Liam in to help them, but it still took at least an hour, due to the limited space Patricia offered.

Since this tour was completely self-funded, they were planning on sleeping in the van rather than staying in hotels along the way. This meant that they had to leave enough room in the back of Patty for the four of them to lie down at night, which was a struggle.

By ten o’clock at night, the van was packed and ready to go. They were leaving in the morning and Louis was vibrating with excitement. He tried to play it cool, as did the rest of the guys, but none of them could sit still.

“I made celebratory smoothies,” Harry announced, bringing a pitcher and a stack of cups out to the garage as the rest of them stood there with their hands on their hips, admiring the packed van. The neighborhood was quiet tonight, with only the typical summer sounds trickling in from the garage opening, the sound of crickets and the occasional owl calling out into the evening.

“Ooh, yum,” Louis complimented, accepting the glass offered to him. He took a sip, enjoying the pineapple and mango flavor. Harry always made the best smoothies. Hell, he always made the best everything. “You’re wonderful. A godsend. An actual angel on earth.”

He was laying it on thick, obviously, but wanted to make sure Harry knew how appreciated he was. The compliments kept the food coming, which was an added bonus.

“Aw, look, you’re making Hazza blush,” Liam cooed, pulling Harry into a side-arm hug that he squirmed away from.

“Not true!” Harry squeaked, making his escape. He covered his rosy cheeks with his hands anyway, but Louis figured it could’ve just been from the temperature outside.

Liam and Niall laughed like they were sharing a private joke and Louis ignored them, because this happened often. He rubbed at a spot of dust on Patricia’s bumper and ran through a mental list in his head of everything they needed to bring with them. Food, clothes, instruments, sound equipment, and so on.

They had Liam’s drumset, Louis’ keyboard, and the ever-growing collection of Niall and Harry’s guitars. Not to mention the crates of clothes and shoes that would hopefully last the necessary three months.

Louis finished his smoothie and praised Harry again for it, forever grateful he had a best friend who was so culinarily talented. Louis was often the taste-tester of his many experimental baked goods, and he loved to sit on the countertop and watch him run around the kitchen in a flurry, trying not to burn what was in the oven.

The night dwindled to a calm sort of excitement that led them all aching to go to bed early, just so they could start the next day already. Louis had a cigarette on the porch before bed, a bundle of nerves and anticipation. He had promised himself and his mom he would quit soon, but it was so hard.

After a while of enjoying the summer breeze that rolled in from the hills beyond the houses across the street, he wandered back inside to the rest of the boys hanging out in the living room.

“Hey, you can take my bed tonight, H. And don’t even try to refuse. I know how sore your back gets.”

Harry pouted, but couldn’t argue. He’d had back problems ever since he was a teenager, and Louis was sympathetic to his pain. Once he tried to give Harry a real massage with fancy lotion and everything, but it was too awkward and they couldn’t stop laughing the whole time. Nowadays Harry had to settle for a quick back rub through his shirt every now and then.

“We can share it, though. Your bed is definitely big enough for two.”

“Yeah, but you like to hog all the covers. Plus last time you nearly kicked me out of bed in your sleep. I’m fine sleeping on the couch, I promise.”

“Lou…”

“I’m serious. You’re going to be sleeping on Patricia’s floor for the next three months, so you better take advantage of this now.”

“Yeah, Harry, take advantage of this now,” Niall parroted, just to be a little shit. He and Liam burst into a fit of laughter.

“Okay. If you’re sure,” Harry said slowly, ignoring the teasing behavior of the others. Louis nodded at him and began shoving him in the direction of the bedroom, bidding him goodnight.

He watched him go, all long legs and broad shoulders disappearing down the hall. Harry had cut his hair a few weeks ago and Louis was still surprised every time he saw his sharp jawline rather than a mess of pretty curls. Harry had been freaking out over if it was the right decision or not, going back and forth on if he should do it, and it wasn’t until Louis actually dragged him to the hairdresser that he finally committed to it.

He seemed happy with the decision, too, donating his hair to a charity and posting an artistic picture on Instagram because he felt free with all that literal weight off his shoulders.

When Louis turned around, he caught Liam and Niall watching him from the living room. Louis ignored them and got settled on the couch beside Liam, with Niall alone on the loveseat. It felt like something was missing from their dynamic with Harry all the way in Louis’ bedroom, but whatever. They were going to exist in extremely close quarters for the entire summer, so it wasn’t a big deal.

While Niall and Liam continued discussing their plans for tomorrow morning, Louis closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 

          &&&

 

Their first performance was in Nashville, which felt right in a cinematic sort of way. Nashville was where they all fell in love with music, going to their first concerts or visiting the music shops, taking guitar lessons and meeting their idols by chance on the streets.

It was also where Harry and Louis first met, fighting over a special edition Bon Iver vinyl that had somehow ended up at the secondhand shop. Well, they didn’t exactly fight over it, but there was a little bit of aggressive tugging peppered in with jokes and laughter. Harry eventually allowed Louis to have it, as long as he promised to invite him over to listen to it sometime—and the rest was history.

Fifteen minutes before their performance and Louis was vibrating with nerves and excitement. One Direction was a small indie rock band, with a decent amount of fans, although it was nothing to write home about. Still, their fans were loyal enough to give them a stable livelihood for the next few years at least, as long as the band kept writing music and living as frugally as possible.

They all had their strange pre-performance rituals. Liam completed exactly seventy-seven push ups before repeating positive affirmations to himself in front of the mirror, like _I have enough confidence to perform in front of a crowd_ and _I can do this!_ Meanwhile Niall flossed and brushed his teeth exactly twice, then filled his pockets with guitar picks to throw to the crowd. Sometimes he would practice his golf swing, if he had time.

Louis liked to kick a soccer ball around and juggle it on his knees, seeing if he could beat his record number of juggles. He was also the only one who knew how to set up sound equipment and lights and everything, so if there wasn’t a worker at the venue to do that, he would double or triple check all of his work.

Harry, on the other hand, sat perfectly still in front of the mirror and gazed wistfully at himself. It looked like he was meditating, or maybe searching his reflection for some sort of weakness or insecurity to focus on before the show. He always applied cherry-tinted lip balm and pursed his lips in front of the mirror, blinking at himself.

Oh, and the candles. He never had a lighter with him so he always had to ask Louis to light them, and there were so, so many to light. It was nice, though, because whatever back room they were waiting in before their performance would soon smell like vanilla and roses.

“See, you make fun of them, but I know you like them,” Harry said, when he caught Louis inhaling deeply.

“What are we, a cult? About to sacrifice someone?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Fuck off,” Louis laughed, pushing at Harry’s shoulder. Harry jokingly pushed him back and they ended up wrestling like children, knocking over a rose candle and nearly setting the whole place on fire.

“Three minutes,” Liam warned, moving onto another round of jumping jacks. Louis had no idea how he did that without wasting all of the arm strength he would need on stage during his drum solos. It seemed to work for him, though, so Louis wasn’t going to question it.

The time passed quickly, each moment a snapshot of his heart pounding in his chest. He took a few deep breaths, drank a sip of water, and waited his turn to run on stage.

They all went out individually, getting into their positions one by one as the crowd cheered, hyping them up. Liam went first, sitting down at his drumset, and then it was Louis’ turn. He ran out with a jump in his step, smirking at the full sound of cheering and clapping. He applauded as Niall arrived on stage and lastly Harry, taking his spot at the center microphone.

It was easy to get lost in all of this, in the euphoria of performing. Louis was nervous but more than that he was excited, proud to share the songs they had spent so long writing and rewriting to their version of musical perfection.

He caught Harry’s eye, and waited for the cue to play the beginning chords.

 

          &&&

 

The novelty of van life had completely worn off after an entire week on the road.

It was still magical, but in a more realistic sort of way. Louis didn’t dread the long hours in the car each day, because he enjoyed listening to wacky playlists of the most obscure music Harry could find. He enjoyed their chaotic gas station stops for snacks and bathroom breaks. The silly conversations that made their stomachs sore from laughter. The scenery that changed with each state. The hopeful view of the everlasting road stretching out in front of them, beckoning them forward.

It was hard, though. They fought a lot, as four people trapped in a van for a week would. They argued over where and when to stop, they argued over who was driving and who was navigating, there argued over the arrangement in which they slept. At one point Harry got so mad, he didn’t talk to any of them for six hours.

He finally broke when Stevie Nicks’ “Edge of Seventeen” came on the radio—because he was too mad to plug his phone to the aux cord—and he asked Niall to turn it up. Louis just smirked and sang along, glad Harry was done with brooding for the time being, at least. He had missed his ridiculous commentary about the cows chewing grass along the side of the road, or the _crucial_ difference between multigrain and wholegrain bread.

“Okay, literally, all of you stink. Like, please, open the windows more. I’m going to die back here,” he was saying, officially over his strop but still moody enough to insult them all.

“You smell bad too,” Liam pointed out from the driver’s seat, rolling down the windows anyway. “We all smell bad.”

“I do not!”

“What, you somehow showered in the past seventy-two hours without any of us knowing?”

Louis was navigating today, although he didn’t have to do much because they were going to be on this same highway for at least three more hours. He turned around in his seat as best as he could with the seatbelt still on, to face Niall and Harry in the backseat, surrounded by all of their instruments and equipment. It was quite cramped back there, but the backseat also liberated them from any driving or navigating duties.

He leveled Harry with a stare, raising his brows at him as if to emphasize Liam’s words.

“I smell good,” he argued, crossing his arms over his chest. The position put his biceps on display, crafted from months of boxing with Liam, and Louis had to look away.

“Whatever you say,” he muttered, but the conversation sparked an idea.

They had gone three days without showering, which was gross enough on its own, with the added factor being that they sweat a lot each night while performing. The last time they showered was in Memphis, when they parked at a rest stop on the side of the road and paid for showering vouchers. The showers had been run down and quite the opposite of luxury, but they really weren’t picky when the question wasn’t nice shower or gross shower, but rather, gross shower or no shower.

The Texas ecology was quickly changing from average greenery to desertland warmed in the sun. They had been driving on this highway for a while, passing road signs with directions to different sights and tourist attractions. Louis kept his eyes peeled until he saw what he was looking for.

“Take the next exit, please.”

“What? Why?”

“Just trust me.”

Liam bit his lip nervously but followed Louis’ instructions. Meanwhile, Louis stole Harry’s square-framed tortoiseshell shades right from his hands, ignoring his protests, and put them on so he no longer had to squint in the sun. He let his hand rest out the wide open window, enjoying the breeze flowing between his fingers and rushing into the car.

“You look so good in those,” Harry said, before slapping his hand over his mouth.

Niall groaned, whispering something like _you’re sooo obvious._

Louis gave him a weird look before laughing, not knowing what Harry was on about. “Glad you think so.” He admired himself in the mirror on the sun visor, but disagreed—Harry looked much better in them.

In fact, Harry looked great in most things. Louis would scoff at the clothes he would bring home from a day scouring thrift stores for flowy trousers and Hawaiian shirts, but then Harry would show up one day wearing the most hideous outfit and somehow pull it off. Each look was made sweeter by the fact that it was uniquely Harry, hand picked by him, and undoubtedly something he loved.

He used to wear skinny jeans and vintage band shirts while he performed, which was basically the uniform of any given indie rock band, but he had recently switched to more modest clothing. Louis knew it was because he didn’t like the feeling of his body on display for hundreds of strangers to stare at and comment on. They had talked about this before, late one night after a concert in Atlanta where some girl in the audience had groped him through his skinny jeans.

Louis had been so mad, he could’ve launched a thousand ships with the power of his indignation and righteousness. In the end, they figured out she was also part of the group that followed the band around a lot to the point where it was creepy, a restraining order was filed, and the rest was history.

Liam continued following Louis’ instructions and they ended up on a bumpy dirt road that led to a small parking lot surrounded by trees. Louis smiled to himself for the success, taking in the few cars around them. It wasn’t crowded at all, which was perfect.

“Wait, so what’re we doing here?”

“Patience, Neil,” Louis shushed, before turning to the group at large. “Ready for a hike, boys?”

Harry immediately perked up. “We’re going hiking? You hate hiking!”

“Not true.” Louis loved to go on long, calm walks by himself in the morning. He also enjoyed a good woodland trail. He used to be a rock climber, for chrissake, he was a very outdoorsy person. It was just that Harry liked to stop every three seconds to take a picture of wildflowers or salamanders with his fancy DSLR or an old film camera for the “aesthetic.” All Louis wanted to do was walk at a pace faster than a snail’s, at the very least.

“Can I bring my camera?”

Louis wanted to say no, but the look of pure, unadulterated joy on Harry’s face made him give in. “Fine, but bring the case ‘cause it might get wet. Alright everyone, out of Patrica, let’s go, let’s go.”

While waiting for everyone to file out of Patty, Louis wandered over to the information center and grabbed a map, scanning over the trails. During the short ride from the highway to the park, he did a quick google search, so he mostly knew how to get where he wanted to go.

The trail to their destination involved a bit of climbing through the hilly forest, which was funny because Louis thought Texas was completely flat and desertlike. He foraged through the pathway like a valiant explorer, leading his bandmates to what he hoped was more than a lackluster sight.

Finally, after at least two miles of stumbling over tree roots and climbing over jagged rocks, the trees opened up to a fecund riverbed. Louis smiled, taking a step forward, as a waterfall came into view.

“We’ve arrived,” he announced grandly, opening his arms up as if to embrace the scene before him. He heard some of the others make noises of surprise behind him, Harry actually gasping at the sight.

“What is this?”

“Welcome to, uh,” he paused to check the name on the map, “Wichita Falls. Not the actual Wichita Falls, I think, but they’re waterfalls in Wichita, so.”

“Wow, this is nice,” Liam commended, walking to the edge of the river to dip his fingers into the cool water. Niall was already by his side, removing his shirt.

Louis looked back to Harry who was still standing by the edge of the forest with his lips parted softly, staring at the falls. Water rushed down and it sounded like summer.

“Alright there?”

“Louis, this is beautiful,” Harry said, quiet enough to barely be heard over the rushing of the falls. He stumbled forward, clumsily making his way over the rocks. Watching him almost trip each time was nerve-wracking, and Louis couldn’t exhale fully until Harry was standing safely by his side.

“Knew you would like this, you hippie.”

“You are too,” Harry countered, prodding at Louis’ Birkenstock sandals with his toes. “You literally have a VW bus you practically live out of-”

“I live in my apartment, actually, and the VW’s name is _Patricia-_ ”

“You’ve read every book by Herman Hesse and Kahlil Gibran-”

“So have you!”

“Because you recommended them,” Harry pointed out, which, okay, true. “You use all-natural deodorant, you have a book on edible plants on your bedside table back home, _and_ you’re wearing a hemp bracelet.” Harry folded his arms over his chest, one hand clutching his camera, challenging. “Plus, you took a gap year to rock climb in South America! Tell me you’re not a hippie. I will pull out all of the receipts.”

“Whatever. You’re the one always throwing up peace signs and meditating and whatever.” He grinned because he knew as soon as he said “meditating,” Harry would give him a mini lecture about the inherently religious nature of meditation.

“I don’t meditate,” Harry argued, brows furrowing. “I simply sit quietly and try to clear my mind. We both took enough religious studies classes in college to know meditation is strictly religious, no matter what corporate America or suburban soccer moms on health cleanses try to tell you. And neither of us is Buddhist, so.”

He narrowed his eyes at Louis when he noticed him smiling.

“Actually,” he finally said, “I don’t think either of us can technically be hippies. Are we part of the 1960’s counterculture? No. It’s 2019.”

“It sure is,” Louis agreed, unable to wipe the cheesy grin off his face.

“But if one of us is part of that counterculture, it’s definitely you. I had to listen to you talk for an hour about how much you love walking barefoot in the grass last time we got high together.”

“Um, excuse me, you were the one who made us listen to Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin on repeat that same day. Talk about the 60’s.”

Harry bit his lip to hide the beginning of a big smile to match Louis’. He searched Louis’ eyes as if looking for something. Louis wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he did know that Harry’s eyes were very green, highlighted by the verdant forest behind him. “Remember the first time we hung out, when we-”

“Listened to Bon Iver on repeat in my bed all day? Yeah, I remember that. We were supposed to get coffee or something, I dunno, but you convinced us to stay in my room all day. Very persuasive, I recall. I think there was weed involved,” he added dryly, playing dumb.

Harry looked down shyly, about to say something else, but was cut off by Liam yelling their names. When Louis looked back, he and Niall had already shucked off their clothes on the shoreline and dipped into the river.

“Stop flirting and get over here!” Niall called, laughing at the startled looks on their faces.

“Not flirting,” Harry grumbled, eyes cast down. He looked very uncomfortable with even the insinuation that he would ever flirt with Louis, which was a bit… insulting.

Louis tried not to be hurt, saying, “Don’t worry, he’s just teasing.”

Harry shook his head and stayed quiet, wandering closer to the waterfall to take a few pictures. He had his Nikon DSLR today, not the film camera he picked up at a garage sale, so he was able to take as many photos as he wanted without worrying about changing film.

Louis let him do is thing, stripping out of his shirt and shorts, debating shucking his boxers as well. No one was around but the boys, anyway, and he always loved the free feeling of swimming naked.

He pulled yanked his boxers down to the cacophony of Liam and Niall’s catcalls, standing tall and flipping them the double bird.

“Hey Harry, you should take a picture of this,” he called, posing ridiculously with his arm over his head just to be a shit.

“What- Oh my god,” Harry shrieked, slapping his hands over his eyes. “What is wrong with you?!”

Louis’ abdominal muscles were sore from laughing so hard. “Get over here, let’s swim.”

“Not until you put your clothes back on!”

“You’ve never seen a man more beautiful than me,” Louis teased, striking another more languid pose. Harry still had his eyes covered, though, so Louis rolled his eyes and jumped into the water.

He swam over to the rock where Harry was now perched, flipping through some of the photos on his camera.

“Not gonna swim?”

“Ehm, I don’t know…”

“C’mon, you were just complaining about not showering.”

“Yeah, that was for _you_ guys, since you smell so bad.”

Louis swam closer and wrapped his dripping hands around Harry’s bare ankles, hanging onto them to keep himself afloat. The river was deeper near the waterfall, and he couldn’t stand here.

“C’mon, H, I know you want to.”

“Fine, let me just put this away.”

That required less persuasion than expected. Louis watched Harry wander over to his camera case to secure it safely inside, before he peeled off his shirt by gripping the hem.

“Strip, baby! That’s what we like to see!”

“Shut up,” Harry groaned, stepping out of his shorts and carefully folding them.

“All. The. Way,” Louis chanted, and Niall and Liam joined in too. “All. The. Way. All! The! Way!”

“You’re all so ridiculous,” he complained. But he kicked off his boxers anyway, so quick that Louis only caught a flash of pale skin before he was diving into the water, completely submerged. They all cheered, and when Harry resurfaced, he pushed his wet hair out of his eyes just to glare at Louis.

It was a good day.

 

          &&&

 

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Come here, shh, you’ll be okay.”

“No, Louis, I’m serious-”

“Here, look, here’s a trash can.” He placed it on his lap, then moved his hand to rub his back. “Everything’s gonna be okay. If you throw up, you throw up.”

“Too many weed brownies?” Niall joked, passing by.

“Fuck off, Niall,” Harry snapped, looking up to stare daggers at him before he ducked his head and heaved into the wastebasket.

Louis continued murmuring comforting things and rubbing his back, feeling powerless as to doing anything that might actually ease some of Harry’s anxiety. He always got nervous before they performed, and some days were worse than others. They always got through it, though. They always got through it.

“You do make really good weed brownies,” Louis added, just to make conversation. It was true, too; sometimes, on days where they were writing new songs or rehearsing for long hours during the day, Harry would take a break to do some baking. It was nice.

“Shut up, Lou.”

Louis chuckled, holding it back by biting his tongue. He stayed quiet after that but didn’t leave Harry’s side, because Harry never told him to leave and he didn’t want to, anyway. He didn’t end up puking, but he did heave and spit a few times into the trashcan.

“I’m sorry you feel like shit,” he said later, ten minutes before they had to be on stage, wrapping him in a hug.

Harry slumped down into his embrace, taller than him but making himself small, burying his face in Louis’ shoulder. “It’s okay. It is what it is.”

“You can take meds for anxiety, you know. It might help-”

“It’s not that bad,” Harry grumbled. “Just before we perform.”

“I know, but still. It could help.”

“I’m fine, Lou.”

“Alrighty then,” Louis muttered, rocking them back and forth a bit. “You’re gonna smash it tonight, you know. The crowd always loves you. You make everyone fall in love with you by the end of each performance. It’s inevitable.”

“Shut up, Louis.”

He shut up. They stayed like that until it was time to perform.

 

          &&&

 

They got lost in New Mexico. It was an eventful day surrounded by uneventful landscape. Louis had never seen so many prickly shrubs clinging to the dry, dusty dirt in his life.

Louis became the new driver, trading out the spot with Niall, because Patricia was his baby and he didn’t trust others to drive her in stressful situations like this. Harry was his navigator, which in hindsight was a bad idea, because he was too damn calm and slow to read the map and give Louis accurate, up to date directions at the same time.

It wouldn’t have been a problem if their GPS hadn’t died. None of them had service out here, so they couldn’t use their phones. Thus, Harry held up a finger, saying, “Wait a minute!” before he pulled a very, very old, outdated atlas out from the glove compartment.

Louis had never seen the atlas before, so he assumed it was original to Patricia, when he rescued her from the junkyard. Even then, the atlas probably wasn’t new. Harry checked the copyright date and they found it was from the 50’s.

“Christ.” They could probably sell it to an antique store for a decent amount of money.

Harry shushed him. “Okay, so it might not be accurate, but…”

Which led to them getting so lost, they had to pull over to the side of the road and use the position of the sun to try to figure out which way was North.

“Okay, so the sun rises in the West…”

“It rises in the East, you idiot.”

“East, that’s what I met.”

Liam covered his face with his hands.

“Well,” Louis said, petting the steering wheel as if to pacify Patricia. Poor Patricia. Today, she was a van full of idiots. “Right now seems like a good time for lunch, and maybe a joint.”

“But if we smoke now, we’ll never get out of here,” Harry complained. “None of us are productive when we’re high.”

“Does it matter?”

“We have to be at the venue in,” he checked his watch, “Five hours. Four, if we want to actually set up our shit before we go on stage. Louis. I don’t want to perform when feeling like I’d rather take a nap.”

“Harry. It’s gonna be okay.”

So maybe he was a bit of a bad influence. They all piled out of Patty and sat on the side of the road while Liam made them PB&J sandwiches, because he didn’t trust any of them to not contaminate the peanut butter container with jelly or vice versa. Which was a fair concern, quite frankly. Anyway, Louis got out his tupperware and rolled a joint, and they all passed it around, even Harry.

By then, the fact that they were still hopelessly lost in the middle of New Mexico was funny. They couldn’t stop laughing about it. Louis laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes, and he ended up dropping his sandwich on the burning hot road. Then they all laughed even harder. God, they were never going to make it out of here.

“I think I need a break from driving,” Louis declared. “And Harry needs a break from navigating. We should take a nap in the back. Together.”

“Together?” Harry asked, laughter dying out and eyes widening.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Louis asked, genuinely confused.

“Calm down, Harry,” Niall laughed. “It’s not like he asked you to sleep with him. Well, he did, but-”

Harry reached out with his big hand and pressed it to Niall’s mouth, effectively quieting him. It was funny. Well, everything was funny.

“Can I lay my head in your lap? Will you pet my hair?”

“Of course, if that’s what you want.” Louis had always liked to play with his hair, whether it was long or short or somewhere in between.

Harry nodded. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, but he still looked very beautiful, like always. “Yes, that is what I want.”

“Cool.” Louis pulled the atlas away from Harry and thrust it against Liam’s chest, but his movements were slow enough to be anticipated. “Good luck. Harry and I are gonna take a nap.”

With that, he grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him back into Patricia, getting them situated amongst all of their sound equipment. He made sure Harry’s seatbelt clicked into place before he lied down with his head on Louis’ lap, looking up at him.

Louis ran his fingers through his hair a few times. “Happy?”

Harry’s eyes drifted closed and he let out a pleased sound. Louis knew from experience that having your hair played with when you were high was one of the best feelings in the world. It was way up there on the list, second only to kissing and fucking.

“Mm, so good…” he murmured, one of his hands coming up to grip Louis’ thigh, just above his knee. Even that small touch sent fissures of pleasure through Louis’ body. He was glad to have the warm, heavy pressure of Harry resting safely in his lap.

In the front, Niall was driving, and Liam had the atlas spread out in front of him, the paper maps fluttering in the wind of the open windows and glowing in the bright New Mexico sun. They were just trying to get to Albuquerque.

On the radio, Kansas’ “Dust in the Wind” played, the pretty guitar chords drifting through the air. As Louis dozed off, he imagined what it would be like to have their own songs playing on the radio someday.

It was a longshot, a pipe dream and a fantasy, but it was a beautiful thought to have while falling asleep.

 

          &&&

 

They were horribly late to Albuquerque, and it was a disaster. They arrived with twenty minutes before they had to be on stage. Louis had no time to set up their equipment, and he enlisted the other boys to help him, but they were all helpless when it came to figuring out what to plug in where.

There was no time for a sound check, so when they all ran out on stage later, Louis felt sick to his stomach with the fact that things were bound to go wrong. Still, he shakily stood by his keyboard and waited for his cue from Harry to begin.

It was just as bad as anticipated. Four bars into the first song, when Harry tried to sing, his mic wasn’t working. He shot a panicked look over to Louis, whose mind was running a mile a minute. Was the switch on? Did he plug the cord into the right slot?

He yanked his own microphone from the stand above his keyboard and ran over to Harry to hand it to him. Unfortunately, in his haste, he tripped over a wire and was sent flailing into Harry’s chest.

Harry never claimed to have good balance, and that was apparent now as he stumbled back with the weight of Louis’ body slamming into him. He crashed back against Liam’s drum set, setting off the symbols. The crowd resounded in a collective gasp.

Louis caught Harry’s elbow before it smashed through the top of the mid tom drum. He met Harry’s wide, startled eyes and sent him a deeply apologetic look before rubbing his shoulder once in comfort and running back to the sound box to fix the mics. Harry visibly cringed, before picking up the next chorus.

 _I’m so sorry,_ Louis mouthed, once he was back at his keyboard.

Harry shook his head, as if to say, _Not your fault,_ even though it totally was.

After the performance, they laughed about it for hours. Louis wiped away the literal tears in his eyes and took in a few shaky breaths to steady himself, trying not to think of the chaotic disaster their concert was. When he looked over at Harry, who had his gaze steady on the dark road stretching out in front of them, he was biting his lip to hold back a smile.

“We should find somewhere to stay the night soon,” Liam suggested from the back, where he and Niall were watching videos posted by fans on Twitter of Louis accidentally launching himself into Harry and Harry nearly taking out Liam’s entire drum set.

Harry resisted, assuring, “I can drive more, though. I’m not tired.”

“Alright, whatever you say, I guess. You’re in charge.”

“Right.” Harry sat up a little straighter, gripping the wheel tighter. “I’m in charge.”

“You’re such a weirdo,” Louis laughed, lounging back in the passenger’s seat and debating kicking his feet up on Patricia’s beautiful dashboard. He decided against it, instead pulling his knees to his chest and curling up on the seat, looking out the window.

Outside, reels of endless desert basin passed by in the darkness, with only spiky shrubs and clouds of dust spreading out through the barren land. Somehow, the vacantness was more comforting and peaceful than Louis ever expected it to be.

“There’s so much out there,” Harry quietly said. It seemed he was on the same train of thought as Louis, staring out at the vastness of the earth.

“So much to explore,” Louis agreed. “It’s a big world.”

He lived a modest life and didn’t have much money to travel, but his world opened up when he realized there were ways to get out there and see things without paying for expensive hotels and fancy meals. All it required was accepting the risk.

Just like this tour, which was one of the biggest risks he would ever take in his life. The act of touring as an independent band was wrought with uncertainty, insecurity, and a certain precariousness that made it just as nerve wracking as it was exciting.

“You should play some music.”

“What do you want?”

“Something Floyd. I don’t know.”

Louis plugged in his phone, scrolling through his music and finally selecting _Dark Side_ after some deliberation. It was their most iconic album and Louis had listened to it hundreds of times. Harry was in the same boat. He caught Harry’s grin as soon as he heard the opening chords.

They listened to the music then, falling into a comfortable silence. The cold desert wind blew in through the wide open windows, making Louis glad he had stolen Harry’s hoodie earlier in the evening. It smelled like the bonfire they made last night while parked at a campsite, all smoke and wood and glowing embers.

Beneath the scent of the bonfire, though, was a hint of the expensive cologne Harry always wore, something Tom Ford that was a birthday gift from his mom. Louis had been spending so much time with Harry lately that the scent was more than just familiar. It was comforting, pleasing to his senses, something he wanted more of.

Sitting up front, it felt like just the two of them. In the back, Niall dozed off with his head against the window and Liam listened to a podcast on his phone.

The cool breeze felt so good, Louis decided to lean out the window. He looked down at first, watching the tires turn over the road, everything a blur. It wasn’t until he looked up, though, up at the sky, that his heart burst.

“H, oh my god, you have to look at the sky.”

“What? What is it?” He leant forward to look up, out the windshield. “Oh, wow.”

Louis grabbed his arm to catch his attention. “Do you think we can sleep outside tonight? Under the stars?”

It was one of his favorite things in the entire world, camping on a clear night and sleeping under a sky full of stars. It rarely happened, because living in Georgia meant that it was often humid and rainy, and the dew would soak his sleeping bag straight through in the morning. But he had never seen a sky as clear as this one, out here in the desert.

Harry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, of course. We can do anything you want.”

Harry slowed down with a gentle foot on the breaks, bringing them to a slow stop. Louis stepped out of the van while Harry informed the others that they would be spending the night here. Technically, it wasn’t legal to park their van on the side of the highway, but they hadn’t seen another soul in three hours, so it would probably be fine.

As soon as Louis feet hit the ground, he looked up. The sight knocked the breath out of his lungs as he took it all in.

Stargazing was something he tried to do often, but it was never like this. The New Mexico sky was clear and he could see more than just stars—he saw the haze of the Milky Way galaxy spilling across the sky, the stars not just pinpricks of light but something more, something tangible with blue and yellow glows.

“Fuck, that’s so sick.”

Louis laughed, feeling giddy with Harry by his side. He suddenly felt the driving need to get closer to the sky, if only a little bit.

“Boost me up?”

“What?”

“C’mon, boost me up to Patty’s roof.”

“Um, okay-”

Louis gripped the top of the van and began pulling himself up. He hadn’t been climbing in a while, so his grip wasn’t as strong as it usually was.

Harry’s hands came up to support his thighs, tentative like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch Louis like this. “I don’t-”

“Push me up,” Louis cried, not wanting to hold his entire weight with his arms anymore.

Harry flailed momentarily before planting his palms on Louis’ ass and shoving him onto Patty’s roof. The touch was in an unexpected place, and he shrieked.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry.”

“Oh my god,” Louis giggled. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the gorgeous sky, his skin still tingling with the pressure of Harry’s hands gripping him. His best friend could be so awkward with him, sometimes. It was amusing.

“Is it worth it?”

“Definitely.” Louis flipped back over onto his stomach and offered his hands to Harry. “Here, I’ll help you up.”

“What? No. I’m way too heavy.”

Louis leveled him with a deadpan stare. Harry might’ve been an inch or two taller than him, but he was seriously underestimating Louis’ strength. “You think I’d drop you?”

“No, I didn’t say that-”

“Just trust me, then. I’ll pull you up. Give me your hands.”

He looked nervous, but set his big hands in Louis’ anyway, squeezing tight.

Louis hauled him up easily. It was very anticlimactic—except for the awed look on Harry’s face, which was quite flattering.

“See? Easy.”

“Sorry. Sometimes I forget you’re a rock climber.”

“You’re kidding. With these biceps?” He rolled up the sleeves of his—Harry’s—hoodie and flexed his arm muscles for emphasis. While boxing made Harry bulkier in the muscle department, climbing made Louis leaner.

Working out wasn’t his entire life, but he did like to stay in shape. It was harder on the road, with long hours in the van and the rest of their time split between performing and scrounging for a few moments of sleep. Still, he tried to find time to kick a ball around, work on his skateboarding tricks, or lift some heavy boxes. Harry and Liam were the ones to wake up early to go for a run, or to wrap their hands and box in whatever parking lot they were parked in for the night.

Harry kept his eyes on Patricia’s roof, very purposefully. Louis watched him for a second, wondering if he should question it.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, nudging him with his shoulder.

“What? Nothing’s wrong.”

As if. “You’re acting weird. You can talk to me, you know.” Unless- “Did I do something? Is it me?”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “No- Never, Lou. You’re fine, you’re perfect. It’s not- It’s me. I’m just being weird. Sorry.”

He kept staring at him, as if he could figure out what was wrong just by looking. “You can tell me, Harry. Anything.”

He shook his head though, a definite no. “I can’t, Lou. I really can’t. I’m sorry. It’s stupid, please don’t worry about it.”

Louis bit the inside of his cheek, considering. He had no idea what was going on or why Harry was looking at him so sadly, so defeated, but it was worrying him. Why was it something he couldn’t tell Louis?

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you sad. We’re still best friends, right? Always?”

Harry nodded, his eyes getting a little watery. They glistened in the light of the stars. “Always.”

“Okay. Then it’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Louis couldn’t be sure if his placations were valid or not, but it didn’t matter. His words seemed to ease some of the worry in Harry.

“Yeah. Of course. You’re right.”

Louis laughed, trying to ease some of the tension. “Alright, cool.”

He lied down on his back, crossing his ankles out of habit and folding his arms above his head. Harry followed suit, lying next to him so they were both looking up at the sky.

“Hard to believe we’re really here right now. Touring the country, living the dream, all that.” As exciting as it was, it still felt like normal, everyday life. Maybe Louis was just comfortable in the limelight, not that they had much attention on them anyway, but still.

Leading up to this summer, they sat down for a few print and video interviews to promote their new album and encourage fans to purchase tickets for their tour. They had a decent amount of fans for an indie band but it was never anything to write home about. They performed to crowds of two-hundred people at most if they were on their own, while festivals gave them a taste of what it was like to have a larger audience. With each performance in a new city, one they had never been to before, One Direction’s influence grew and grew. The best way to make new fans was to get their name out there.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed softly. “It’s weird. Never expected myself to be doing this.”

He talked to Harry all the time, saw him every day, but they rarely talked about what their lives would’ve been like if they’d never met.

Curiosity got the best of him. “What did you expect instead?”

“I dunno. I mean, you know I did religious studies and psychology in college, so, like, I thought I’d be doing social work in Atlanta or something.”

“You never thought you’d make music a career? You’re such a great singer, H. You could do anything.”

“So could you,” Harry countered. “I don’t know. It’s so risky, though, being in a band. Making it your livelihood. You know taking risks gives me anxiety.”

“Yet here you are.”

Harry twisted his fingers together, resting them on his chest. “Yet here I am.”

“And you’re doing great. And the band is doing great. Everything is great.”

“Everything is fucking great,” Harry agreed under his breath.

They stayed like that for a while. It was quiet under the starlight, stranded in this beautifully barren desert, nothing but dirt and dust for miles.

Louis had learned on the way here that New Mexico was one of the first states in the US to enact a law that protected the night skies. Astrotourists raved over the clear visibility each night. New Mexico’s high elevations, low population densities, dry climate, clean air, and countless clear nights made for the perfect stargazing conditions.

The universal felt closer than usual, its trillions of stars spread out in front of Louis like an infinite road map. It was hard, looking at the grandeur of it all, to believe that humans were alone in this infinity. Louis couldn’t believe it—he didn’t want to believe it.

And while the universe felt closer than usual, Harry felt further away: lost in his own thoughts.

Louis didn’t like the feeling. He acted on impulse, without thinking. His hand jutted out to latch with Harry’s forcibly lacing their fingers together.

Harry physically stilled. He even stopped breathing for the first moment their fingers were entwined. Louis wasn’t sure what to do with such a reaction.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah.”

Harry’s palm was sweaty. The evening air was chilly, so that couldn’t be used as an excuse, and Louis chalked it up to nerves. Harry had no reason to be nervous, though, they had casually held hands countless times. As best friends of five years, it was almost a given.

Louis considered letting go. But then Harry tightened his grip, and it was reassuring.

“Sorry… I’m acting so weird, sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Louis promised, wishing Harry would tell him why but not wanting to push him. “Do you think we could sleep up here tonight?”

“You’re kidding. Right..?”

“I don’t move much in my sleep, so I don’t think I’d roll off. If we huddle close to the center, we can probably do it. C’mon, Harry. When are you ever gonna have this opportunity again?”

“Isn’t the ground just as good?” He paused. “Okay, fine. God, it’s so hard to say no to you.”

Louis tried his hardest not to smirk at that. He could be quite persuasive.

They jumped down to get their sleeping bags and a few extra blankets, since they would be exposed to the elements tonight. Liam and Niall had done some stargazing of their own while leaning against the hood of the car, and they were getting ready for bed too.

Harry pushed Louis to Patricia’s roof with two hands on his ass again, but this time he didn’t make an embarrassing noise because he was expecting it. Harry was more trusting when he pulled him up as well. They arranged their sleeping bags in the center of the roof and slipping inside, huddling as close together as possible.

“If we fall, we’re going to die.”

“No way, we’d be fine. I fall from this height all the time when I climb.”

“I still can’t believe you free solo,” Harry whispered, pulling his sleeping bag up to his nose. “That’s so insane to me.”

Free soloing, or climbing without any aid at all—no ropes, harnesses, hooks, picks, or anything other than his body and a good pair of grippy shoes—was Louis’ favorite way of climbing. It was also the most dangerous sport in the world, resulting in the highest mortality rate, for obvious reasons.

He didn’t do it that often, because some risks were even too hazardous and uncertain for Louis, who was a notorious risk-taker. He was an adventurous person, but he knew when and where to draw the line.

“You’d love it,” Louis said, voice soft, turning his head to the side so he could watch Harry. “You’d be so good at it. You should let me teach you, sometime.”

“No way. That’s way too fucking scary. I have no idea how you do it.”

Louis had thought about this a lot, thought about how he would describe his desire to free solo to someone who had never felt that same urge before. He knew Harry would try to understand, because they’d had a lot of conversations about it in the past, late at night when they were more willing to talk about hopes and fears, the kind of stuff that made up the core of their beings.

“Sometimes, the best things in life require risks. Like, for example, I don’t know, scheduling a bunch of performances all over the US, hopping in a van named Patricia, and touring the country without really knowing if you have any fans in Albuquerque or Salt Lake City or wherever.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “Like kissing the person you love, even if you’re not sure they would ever love you back.”

Louis’ brows furrowed. “Right,” he said slowly, not sure where this was coming from. “Like kissing the person you love,” he continued, “or touring with your band, or taking a new job, or moving to a new place, and so on. You’d never get anywhere without taking the risk. Free soloing is like that. You can have all these ropes and hooks and constantly be worried about your gear, not even taking in the natural beauty of the earth. Or you could forgo all of the extra noise and just trust yourself, trust in your abilities, and take the risk of doing it on your own. It’s dangerous and I know that makes it stupid, and I’m not saying it’s worth it to risk your life over an unadulterated mountain view, but… Sometimes it’s nice. Sometimes it’s really nice.”

“But what if… What if you do it, and you mess up, and you fall? And you get really hurt, or die, and it was all for nothing-”

“People don’t free solo unless they’re one-hundred confident in their abilities to find a purchase and make it up the rock,” Louis said. “I mean, there’s no room for mistakes, as you said. You know I’ve done this my whole life. I’ve been climbing since I was a kid. The risk is always there, but it’s mitigated by skill and practice.”

“Um, right.” Harry wasn’t looking at him, even though Louis was facing him. “Er- What if you want to try free soloing, and there’s this one cliff you really want to climb. But you’re not sure… if the cliff wants you to climb it?”

Louis’ brain stalled for a moment.

Okay, so they definitely weren’t talking about climbing anymore.

“Well…” Louis said, deliberately. Risks, they were talking about taking risks. “Why would the cliff not want you to climb it?”

“Because, uh, the cliff might only see me as a, uh- a day hiker, or something. Or an annoying tourist,” Harry cringed. “But I want to be more than that. I want to be a talented climber, specifically for this one cliff.”

Louis was slightly lost. Well, he was following the thread of conversation on more than just surface level, but without the specifics of Harry’s situation, there was no way for him to give accurate advice. He took a stab in the dark, even though the pieces didn’t exactly fit the metaphor. “Is this about you being nervous before our performances?”

“No- No.”

“So something else, then. Boy trouble?” It sounded like boy trouble.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Umm, yeahh…”

Though they were great friends, and talked about everything, they never talked about boys. It wasn’t that Louis didn’t try to talk about boys, because he definitely did try. It was that Harry always shut down whenever the topic of romantic or sexual interests were brought up.

He had always chalked it up to Harry just being shy about intimate topics. It was endearing how his cheeks would turn a shade rosier and he would refuse to meet Louis’ eyes for the next few minutes after Louis casually mentioned a random hookup or a guy taking him out on a date.

The point was, Louis had no idea who Harry was talking about. Harry never mentioned any boys, never mentioned any crushes. It was kind of awful, coming to the groundbreaking realization that Harry had his eyes on someone, wanted to be _a talented climber specifically for this one cliff_ or whatever the fuck he said, for someone else, someone other than Louis, and Louis had no idea all this time because Harry never talked about it.

It hurt more than it should’ve.

“Alright.” Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. “Well, first of all, you’re a great person, Harry. I swear, you’re the best person on Earth, and anyone would be incredibly lucky to have you. So why are you worried that this, uh, cliff, might not love you back?”

“Well, the cliff is very kind to everyone, so sometimes it’s hard to tell if he might possibly sort of like me, or if he’s just like that with everybody.”

“I see. That’s tough.”

Harry turned over on his side, resting on his shoulder to face Louis. The movement brought them closer together, only inches apart. “So, what would you do?”

“If there was a cliff I wanted to climb but I wasn’t sure if it liked me back?”

Harry laughed, covering his face with his hands. “If you liked someone, but there was a huge chance they only thought of you as a friend.”

Even though the thought of Harry going after another guy left a bitter taste in his mouth, because he was afraid of losing his best friend, and Harry getting a boyfriend would likely drive a rift between them, Louis knew he had to give honest advice. This was Harry they were talking about, and he, more than anyone, deserved to be happy. Even if it meant Louis suffered a little in the process.

“I would go for it. Be courageous, take the risk, all that. It could really be worth it.”

“But… What if the cliff doesn’t want me to climb it, and me asking for something the cliff doesn’t want messes up our entire friendship, and then afterwards I can never go to the cliff again even if I just want to go for a day hike or something?”

Louis sighed exasperatedly, laughing at the nonsensical metaphor. “You don’t have to worry about losing your friends, Harry. First of all, any man who doesn’t want you is crazy. Like, certifiably crazy. Second, even if he does say no, he would be not only crazy, but also stupid to give you up as a friend too. And if he gives you up, then he’s not a good person anyways, and you’ve dodged a bullet. It’s a win-win. No risk.”

Harry bit his lip, looking like he wanted to trust Louis but still wasn’t completely on board. “No risk?”

“No risk.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

They talked for a while longer about stupid topics that held much less weight than Harry’s insecurities. Louis recalled all he learned from planetarium visits as a kid and tried to give Harry the best star show he could manage, pointing out stars and constellations. They even managed to locate the Andromeda galaxy, which is the only other galaxy aside from the Milky Way that can be seen from Earth with the naked eye.

Harry was still uncharacteristically tense at first, but relaxed the more they talked and moved away from what was originally bothering him so much. It was relieving once he was back to his normal self, silly and weird and unapologetic about it.

It felt like a whole different universe, on top of Patricia’s roof and under the smattering of stars which seemed to quiver and shake, swirling in his vision. Louis twisted his fingers into the fabric of Harry’s sleeping bag, clutching tightly to keep them huddled together.

“You don’t know how scared I am one of us is gonna roll off here.”

“Stay close to me, then.”

“What, so then we’ll both go down?”

Louis huffed and manually moved Harry’s arm so it was wound around his waist. He had slept in much more precarious positions while on multi-day climbing trips, but this was something Harry wasn’t used to.

He also wasn’t used to putting his arm around someone’s waist, apparently, because he was decently awkward about it.

“It’s okay to touch me, you know.”

“Sorry, sorry.” His hand slid up Louis’ back, pressing flat and polite against his shoulder blades. Louis shivered under the touch. “That better, Your Highness?”

“Much.”

“Wait a second… Is this my hoodie?”

Louis smiled, where his face was burrowed into the warmth of his sleeping bag and Harry’s chest. “Maybe.”

He fell asleep before he heard Harry’s response.

 

          &&&

 

“Fuck, that feels _so_ good.”

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Mm, _yes_ …”

Louis dug his fingers in even deeper, targeting the knots in Harry’s muscles. He could feel the tension dissipate as he worked out each knot, pressing and rubbing.

“Right there- Fuck.” Harry’s groan was muffled by his skin. He was lying on his stomach with his head pillowed on his folded arms. “Oh god, again, right there, again. Lou, please.”

“Calm down,” he laughed, doing as Harry asked.

After almost two weeks of sleeping in the van, Patricia’s stiff, unforgiving floor had taken its toll on his back. This morning, he woke up so stiff and sore that he struggled to even sit upright. Louis was in the process of treating him to a massage. His shirt was rucked up to his shoulders as Louis rubbed Icy Hot on his broad back.

All the bare skin on display was a bit distracting, but Louis busied himself with giving Harry the best back massage of his life. Ignoring the obscene moans caused greater difficulty, but he managed.

“You two better be decent in here, or I swear to god-” Niall said from the hallway, before pushing the door open. His eyes landed on Louis and Harry on the floor of the dressing room. He stared for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t even want to know.”

“Why would we not be decent?” Harry asked, exhaling when Louis’ palms dug into a particularly sore spot.

“I could hear you moaning and groaning all the way down the hall.”

Harry didn’t even have the modesty to be act embarrassed. Louis added more pressure, and the warble of the vinyl record on the turntable continued on around them. They were both a bit sweaty and exhausted from their performance, but exhilarated too. There was no thrill like the post-show elation that left Louis feeling on top of the world.

“Alright, that’s all you’re getting tonight.” Louis patted Harry’s muscles for emphasis, trying not to admire the way the lines of his back changed from broad shoulders to his smaller waist.

“Mm, we should do that again soon. Your turn?”

Louis waved him off. “I’m good.” He wasn’t sure if his mindset was stable enough to handle Harry’s ginormous lion paws rubbing lotion all over him.

Packing up all of their equipment was a hassle and a task Louis would rather do without. It was the price they had to pay for touring on their own, with no roadies to help out. Two weeks into tour, their belongings were mostly disorganized and jammed into boxes, giving him a headache. It was easier with four people, but still rough having to carry everything out to Patricia, only to struggle for another half an hour trying to arrange the boxes so they had enough room for their sleeping bags.

Louis made sure Harry didn’t lift any of the heavier boxes today, because he didn’t want him to mess up his back even more. He assured him he was fine, but Louis wasn’t convinced.

There were a dozen fans waiting for them out the back door of the bar where they performed. Their persistence was impressive—at least an hour had passed since 1D’s set ended, and they were still waiting in the dingy back parking lot, illuminated by one measly, flickering streetlight.

Louis greeted them with smiles and hugs as soon as he arranged the last box in Patricia. The boys were all good with their fans, making the time to take pictures and write out messages on slips of paper or the smooth material of concert tickets.

It had been a little weird at first, Louis had to admit, right in the beginning of the band when no one had ever heard of them before, and there were still people waiting to talk to them after their set. Since then, they’d become more comfortable with the idea of random strangers knowing details about their lives. Over the years, they’d faced their fair share of groupies, stalkers, and genuine fans. If nothing else, it was flattering.

Being more of an unknown band, though, meant they got to meet a lot of really cool people without having to worry too much about being bogged down by massive crowds of people. Since the beginning of their summer tour, Louis had already had countless conversations with true music enthusiasts who had a lot of interesting things to say.

It was easy to learn from someone whose one true passion was music. Sometimes the people with the most important thoughts weren’t the performers, but the audience members. Louis had already met a lot of really cool people who attended handfuls of shows every week.

“Of course, love. Just give me one second.”

Another perk of meeting fans afterwards was getting to witness the way Harry was with them. He was effortlessly charismatic in the best way, and people flocked to him like moths to a flame. Currently, he was teasing them about 1D’s next album while signing their phone cases and tickets with a sharpie.

“Here, I can take it for you,” Louis offered, holding out his hand to accept the phone.

“We want you in it too!”

“Well, alright then.” He slid in beside Harry and a few fans, smiling for a picture. Harry set his arm around his shoulder and it felt nice, it felt right. He was warm despite the chilly breeze, and he smelled good, like sweat and cologne.

Even after the photo was taken, Harry kept his arm around Louis. They answered questions about their upcoming performances and new music, laughing and making jokes. It felt like talking to old friends, and Louis loved that about his job, loved how music could bring people together like this.

Niall was giving advice to a group of younger girls on how to start playing guitar, offering up specific YouTube videos to check out as they listened intently. Liam was telling a wild story that involved a lot of gesticulating, which made the crowd around him laugh so hard they were in tears. And here Louis was by Harry’s side, listening to him answer questions from the curious, interested people around them.

“It’s a 1970 Fender Telecaster. A gift from a friend.”

Louis knew the story well, the one where Harry met a man named Mitch who taught him how to play electric in the first place. He knew because he was the first person Harry called, nearly crying with happiness over his new guitar. Solid body, arctic white, well loved and so ready for a new era of songwriting.

Louis was there, too, after a show one night at a bar back home when he asked a fan if he could have one of her pride flag stickers. Louis didn’t have the heart to laugh at his ridiculous precision and care as he focused on placing one of them under the strings of the Telecaster, tongue poking out in concentration. The sticker collection continued, all from fans with a message, a purpose, and now the guitar was decked out in Black Lives Matter and End Gun Violence stickers as well.

It was getting late, though, and they had an early morning the next day. They hugged everyone goodbye, thanking them for their support even though it felt like there was no way to truly express how much their fans meant to them.

It was Louis’ turn to drive, and Harry accompanied him up front after fighting Niall for the spot. They were in Southern California and parking at a friend’s place tonight. When they got there, a little suburb outside the city, quaint and calm, Louis lit a cigarette and listened to Harry languidly strumming his guitar, sitting on the curb. Despite the exhaustion of traveling all day and playing a full concert at a crowded bar, neither one of them was ready to go to sleep yet.

“I think I want to paint my nails.”

“Oh yeah? You bring some with you?”

“I forgot, but…”

“There’s a convenience store a block away,” Louis offered. “We passed it on the way here. I’ll walk with you, if you want.”

Harry turned his face away but Louis caught his smile, even in the darkness. He set his guitar in the van, where Liam and Niall were sprawled out and snoring, before joining Louis on the sidewalk.

The store was peaceful in the evening, John Mayer playing quietly over the speakers as they wandered through the aisles in search of the cosmetics. Harry debated over a thousand colors before settling on two different bottles.

“Help, I can’t decide. Which one?”

Louis liked them both equally, and any color looked good on Harry, but he knew he would’ve gotten smacked in the shoulder if he said that, albeit lightly. “Get both. They cost like, what, two dollars? Harry, seriously.”

He held the baby pink and pale turquoise bottles to his chest. “Will you paint yours too?”

It wasn’t Louis’ thing, really, but the look of hope on his friend’s face was too much to ignore. “Help me find a color.”

Harry took the task like a challenge, scouring the selection with a new eye. He held up colors to see how they matched with his skin tone—and his eyes. “None of these are the right blue.”

Louis was amused and endeared. His heart could burst, but he didn’t let it, reminding himself that Harry was like this with everyone. So passionate and lovely, putting his whole effort into making others feel loved and cared for.

“Maybe- Maybe this one.”

“You’re saying the color of my eyes is blood red?”

“No,” he huffed, “It just looks good on you. Really good.”

Louis accepted the bottle of the deep scarlet shade, taking Harry’s word for it. On the way to the cash register, they had no self-control and acquired an armful of snacks and candy. Louis thanked Harry as he paid for all of it, promising to pay the next time. Although, after being friends for years, they practically lived out of each other’s pockets, and at times it honestly felt like they had a joint bank account.

When they got back to the van, they crawled inside, mindful to be quiet since Niall and Liam were knocked out and sleeping soundly. It was a tight squeeze, and they sat cross-legged, facing each other. The others fell asleep with the fairy lights lining the ceiling still on, and the cramped space was cast in soft, warm light. It felt more magical than it should’ve, a quiet moment marked by the easy cadence of their bandmates’ long, slow breathing.

Louis took the pink bottle out of the bag and shook it up to make sure the pigment was evenly distributed, grabbing Harry’s hand and placing it on his knee to keep it steady. Harry was still a little shaky at painting his nails, and had nowhere near the skill and dexterity Louis had acquired after growing up with so many sisters.

“Do you want both colors? Just one?”

“Both, please. You choose which is which.”

Louis nodded, opening the bottle and beginning to paint the first nail. It wasn’t the first time he had done this for Harry, and it wouldn’t be the last. Louis could recall at least a dozen deep, heartfelt conversations he’d had with Harry while painting his nails.

The last time they did this, he listened as Harry described his complicated feelings about gender and masculinity versus femininity. Louis loved to hear him speak in his slow, rambling way, and loved it even more when he opened up and shared such personal thoughts. Harry always had an intelligent thought to share, always had an interesting take, a new way of seeing things, and Louis loved him so much for it.

They didn’t talk much tonight, aside from soft whispers so they wouldn’t wake the others. Louis had painted Harry’s nails a million times but tonight it felt different in the gentle quiet, in the faint light that cast beautiful shadows. Harry’s hands were warm on Louis’ knees, fingers splayed out as they waited for the polish to dry.

“I admire you so much,” Harry whispered, out of nowhere.

“What?”

“I do. You should know that. I’m just thinking about it because the way you are with our fans is so sweet, I can’t get over it. You treat everyone like family, even though they’re strangers, and I swear everyone falls in love with you within seconds.”

“Um, no, that’s definitely you,” Louis countered, going back for a second coat. “You’re the one who’s so great with our fans. I’ve just been trying to replicate what you do. You’re like a lighthouse, H, everyone always looks to you.”

Harry looked flustered, his cheeks redder than usual. He went to say something but Louis beat him to it, because he liked when Harry was like this and wanted to draw even more of a reaction from him, because he deserved to be complimented, he deserved to hear the truth.

“I swear, this is off topic but I have no idea how you’ve been single for years. You’re such a catch. That guy you’re worried about is so stupid if he hasn’t made a move on you yet.”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed uneasily, keeping his eyes cast down. “He kind of is.”

They stayed quiet after that and Louis couldn’t help but feel like he had said too much, even though it was all true. But no, Harry deserved to know how luminous and loved he was.

After his nails dried, Harry painted Louis’ with a slightly less steady hand. The polish felt cool on his fingers, and the strong smell reminded him of home, his family. Being on the road was always hard, and even though he was with his best friends, the occasional pang of homesickness hit hard.

“I was right. This looks really good.”

“I feel like a badass,” Louis mused, holding up his hands to inspect the dark red color. He would have to paint his nails more often, especially if it meant Harry would touch his hands so softly like this.

“You are.” He capped the bottle and they sat there staring at each other. Clearly, neither one of them was ready to go to sleep yet.

“I think I’m gonna read for a bit. You wanna listen to some music with me?”

Harry nodded in agreement. Mindful of his drying nails, Louis pulled a book out of his backpack and grabbed his phone too, plugging in the earbuds and handing one to Harry.

Earlier in the day, he had made a new playlist of some songs he was in the mood for, a lot of the classics that had inspired him to make music in the first place: Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles, Tom Petty, America, Elton John, Dolly Parton, Simon & Garfunkel, and so on. Louis had an alternative taste and he was always looking for new artists, underground artists, the kinds of people and bands no one else knew about yet, but of course he still enjoyed the popular musicians, the songs he grew up listening to.

He got comfortable on his back, holding his book up in front of his face. It was a sci-fi thriller, full of dreamy cosmic imagery and dramatic efforts to save the universe. Beside him, Harry settled in on his stomach, flipping through a fashion magazine. He mouthed along to the lyrics, clearly appreciative of the songs Louis had chosen, and scanned each page of the Gucci lookbook with concentration.

As the night floated by, Harry became sleepier and sleepier, each blink becoming a longer endeavor, eyes closing for moments at a time. Ultimately, he closed the magazine and lied down, pressing his face close to Louis’ bare arm, slow breaths tickling his skin.

Sleeping so close together was a different kind of intimacy. It wasn’t that it was sexual, or even romantic, but that the simple human to human contact built bonds between them that left Louis loving Harry like he loved no one else. He wanted to protect him, keep him safe from everything, keep him happy forever and always.

It was in the quiet of the night and the softness of Harry’s languid breathing that Louis could admit this to himself, no matter how hard he tried to suppress his feelings come daylight. It was easier to be honest with his affection when he was the only one awake, because he didn’t have to look at the joy in Harry’s eyes and be so afraid of losing him.

That was what it always came down to. Relationships were messy and never, ever ended well. Friendships were safer, friendships were so much more enduring, friendships could last a lifetime.

Louis wanted a lifetime with Harry. If that meant he had to set some boundaries in place for himself, he would find a way to manage.

 

          &&&

 

“Hey, isn’t it funny that our zodiac signs are compatible?”

“They are?” Louis wasn’t even sure if he knew what his zodiac sign was. He always got confused between cancer and capricorn. One of his sisters was into astrology, and he tried to listen along and pay attention, but she lost him after she started talking about sun, moon, and rising signs. Apparently it wasn’t as simple as just one sign ruling your entire personality.

“Yeah,” Harry affirmed, tortoiseshell shades on so it was impossible to see his eyes. As if he knew Louis had no idea what their signs were, he added, “I’m an aquarius and you’re a capricorn. It’s like, _the_ match made in heaven.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. Though we are kind of like soulmates, don’t you think?” He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but oh well. “Best friend soulmates. Is there a word for that?”

“I dunno. But yeah… It does feel like that.”

“Hey, Harry,” Niall said from where he was leaning against Patricia and tuning his guitar. Apparently it was just to catch his attention and make some meaningful eye contact with him, because he didn’t say anything else after that. It seemed to mean something to Harry, though, because he dropped Louis’ hand and took a step away from him.

“What did you think of me when we first met?”

Louis raised his brows from where he was playing with Harry’s guitar. The had the day off, and had spent it lying on the beach and swimming in the ocean. Patricia was parked in the sand and they had the trunk open, which was where Louis was sitting, trying to teach himself a new instrument. One could never be too musical.

“Well, for starters I was really pissed off at you ‘cause you were trying to take my album,” he answered dryly, recalling how he and Harry literally had a mini tug-of-war fight over the Bon Iver vinyl at the record shop. It was a special edition and exactly the album Louis wanted for his collection, what could he say?

Harry pouted. It was funny how he could come off as big and intimidating if you didn’t know him, but then he would turn around and make a face like that and you’d just know he was a big softie. “Hey, I wanted that record too, and you’re the one who got it in the end.”

“Excuse me, we share that album. Even though I’m the one who paid for it.”

“Yeah, and you keep it at your house, so I have to come over if I ever want to listen to it.”

He wasn’t wrong. “Don’t act like you don’t love coming over and listening to music with me,” Louis chastised, thinking of all the times they hung out together on days with bad weather, curling up with a cup of tea and listening to their favorite songs on the vintage turntable in Louis’ room. It was always like the day they first hung out all over again, when Harry convinced Louis to lie in his own bed with him just to listen to the whole record from the first song to the last with no interruptions, as if getting into a practical stranger’s bed was a normal thing to do.

Louis had been much more hesitant than his usual confident self that day, quieter and just unsure. Not to mention very aware that Harry was _so_ cute and hot all at the same time. Cute-hot boys who had a passion for music were quite dangerous.

He was so lucky they were friends, though. Harry becoming a part of his life was the best thing that happened to him in the past decade. He got to meet the other boys through him, and start a band with them—and now they were living the dream.

“No, but seriously.”

“I dunno.” It was hard to remember, now that they had been through so much together. “I thought you were great, but also, like, a bit pretentious I guess. Which obviously I was wrong about. The fancy cameras and chelsea boots threw me off.”

Harry hummed, looking thoughtful.

“Now you wear grandpa clothes, of course. Which I wholeheartedly support. Even the ugly loafers.”

“Heyyy,” he frowned.

“I’m glad you’re comfier now. Skinny jeans are the worst.”

“You wear them all the time, though.”

“Yeah, so you plebs can enjoy the view of my beautiful ass. Also, I wear more sweats than jeans. I just can’t perform in a tracksuit when the rest of you look like indie rock hipsters. It would be so out of place.”

“We are an indie rock band, after all… I love your tracksuits though. You wear athleisure well.”

“Well, thanks.”

“Do you want some help?”

“With dressing myself? I think I’ve got it. Thanks, though.”

Harry laughed. “No, I mean with the guitar. I could teach you. Not that you can’t do it yourself, but.”

“Oh. That’d be nice.” He tapped his fingers on the hollow body, enjoying the sound. It reminded him that he and Liam tried making an ASMR video once, but it didn’t work out because they couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous it looked out of context. “We should- I wanna sit on the roof again.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “We could do that.”

They set the guitar aside, and Harry boosted Louis up again, because that was the most efficient way of doing it. They were almost experts now. Harry handed the guitar to him before taking Louis’ hands and letting himself be pulled up.

“Oh, wow,” Harry breathed beside him.

“Why does being ten feet higher make everything more beautiful?” They were both a bit in awe.

The sight stretched out in front of them was like from a movie scene, the gorgeous beach, ocean, and sky illuminated in a colorful sunset. It was breathtaking.

“Here, show me the chords you know.”

Which was how they ended up playing guitar while sitting on top of Louis’ trust Bahama blue 1975 VW bus named Patricia, on the Pacific coast of southern California, feeling the sea breeze in their hair, caressing their skin. Like almost every other time Louis hung out with his bandmates, it turned into a singalong, and soon they were laughing and screaming the lyrics to Dolly Parton’s “Jolene,” and everything felt like the most beautiful cliche in the world.

 

          &&&

 

Their time in California passed quickly. Louis had never been to the state before, and while he didn’t necessarily understand all the hype, he enjoyed it very much. It was much more diverse than anyone had ever led him to believe, and the nature part of it was gorgeous. Out of the cities they visited, Sacramento was his favorite.

They visited a diner there for dinner, on the outskirts of the city as they headed north to Oregon. The decor followed the 50’s aesthetic, with black and white checkered tiles on the floor and a cherry red and faded teal color scheme. They sat on the shiny retro bar stools and ate a huge meal of cheeseburgers and fries. Louis even shared a mint chocolate milkshake with Harry for dessert, two red straws poking out of the tall crystal glass.

The night was made a little awkward by the fact that a decently attractive man in a nice Armani suit sat down next to Louis with some line about food being the way to the heart, or something. They talked about the city and what they were doing in a 50’s diner on the outskirts of it. The man was nice enough, but Louis didn’t feel very much elation when he was handed a small slip of paper with a string of numbers and the words “call me” written in fancy cursive.

In terms of performances, they played at two festivals within three days and Harry got so nervous that he actually threw up each time.

Louis was actually, legitimately worried about him. They all agreed performing was fun and one of the best parts about being in a band, and Harry claimed to love it, but it really put him through the ringer. There was just never a good time to talk about it, and whenever Louis found the opportunity, he was brushed off or distracted by Harry’s antics and loveliness.

They were in Seattle now, staying at Liam’s friend’s place. Louis had heard of this friend before, but only vaguely. His name was Zayn and he was very beautiful and very quiet. His apartment was cluttered with countless art projects, and his hands were covered in dried paint and smudged graphite. He also had an extensive comic book collection and almost every superhero movie under the sun, all on DVD.

They all smoked together, and ordered takeout, and by the end of the night Louis was one hundred percent certain Liam and Zayn were in love. Or at the very least, they once had a thing between them. The looks he shared with Harry and Niall showed they were on the same page.

It wasn’t until Zayn put a hand on Liam’s shoulder and started whispering in his ear that Louis sat bolt upright, screeching, “Niall! Harry! Let’s go to the store! Liam and Zayn should stay here. See you guys later!” and he dragged his two bandmates outside.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the met each other’s wide stares and Niall spoke for all of them, saying, “Holy fuck, they’re in _love_.”

“Is that the guy Liam was in a long-distance relationship with? They met at a summer internship? And it didn’t work out and he got his heart broken? Because I’m… I mean, holy hell,” Harry rambled.

“Oh shit, that would make so much sense.” Louis covered his face in his hands. “Christ, this is wild. Alright, well, we should give them some space. I wasn’t kidding about going to the store.”

Liam was a very private person who preferred to listen to other people’s problems rather than focus on his own. He was selfless in that way, and Louis loved him for it, but also, this was mind blowing. Louis had no idea.

At the store, they wandered around aimlessly. Louis was in the kid’s section, trying on weird disguises just to make Harry laugh. It was working, so obviously it was worth it, even though he looked like the most immature person on earth.

Eventually they wandered over to Niall, who was going through the extensive craft beer selection.

“Do you think they’re fucking right now?”

“Louis!” Harry gasped. “Don’t say that.”

“Fifty-fifty,” Niall bet. “I don’t think they ended on good terms, but like, did you see the way they were looking at each other? All heart eyes and shit. It’s disgusting. I can’t believe we had to witness that.”

“ _I_ can’t believe we’re spending the night at Liam’s secret boyfriend’s house and we didn’t even know.”

“They’re really cute together, though. Like, the way they are with each other… It’s sad they didn’t work out,” Harry mused, tapping his pink and turquoise nails on a case of beer.

“Hard to make it work from Seattle to Atlanta. All the way across the country. Time zones really fuck you up, you know?”

“Yeah, it’s just, I don’t know…”

Louis smiled at him, unable to help it. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, H.”

They hardly ever talked about relationships and love and all that, because he always seemed to be a bit antsy whenever the topic came up, but that didn’t mean Louis was ignorant to all the little signs that showed how much Harry loved romance.

Louis had watched enough rom coms with him to know he wept over the slightest displays of affection. Also, the stack of guilty-pleasure romance novels stacked up beside Harry’s bed back home was hard to ignore, whenever he was in his room. Just the thought of Harry picking them out at the library made Louis want to gather him in his arms and never let go.

And, okay. Maybe Louis was a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, but the world didn’t need to know that right now.

Harry shook his head, turning away. “Shut up.”

“You two are helpless,” Niall muttered. “I can’t with you two.”

Louis ignored him. He wasn’t sure what Niall was playing at, but he wasn’t going to get into it right now. He lifted his chin and asked, “So what how long do you think we should stay here? Also, honestly, we might have to sleep in the van tonight. I don’t want to be a room away from them while they’re doing the dance without pants.”

“I’m sure they’ll be quiet,” Harry said weakly.

Louis waved him off. “Whatever. We can kill an hour, can’t we? I’m sure that’ll give them enough time to get everything sorted out.”

They all agreed and wandered off to do their own thing. Niall headed for the golf section, while Harry stopped in front of a wall full of hair clips and began inspecting each one.

Louis just cruised the aisles, not really searching for anything in particular. Candy, chips, drinks, and so on. A bag of organic kale chips caught his eye, because they reminded him of Harry even though he claimed to not even like kale. He was a liar—Louis had seen him eat kale by choice on at least four separate occasions.

Well, okay, maybe you could eat kale without liking it. There were health benefits, important vitamins or minerals or whatever, Louis had read an article about it ages ago but he couldn’t be arsed to remember right now. But four times? That was excessive.

He kept walking until the condom section came into view. It gave him an idea.

Personally, Louis preferred Trojan’s variety pack of lubricated condoms, which included a handful of different types like “warming” and “INTENSE,” whatever that meant. It was always a funny thing to joke about to ease the tension, especially when he was hooking up with someone he met at a bar and thus barely knew. Laughing during intimate moments was beautiful and something everyone should try to incorporate into their sexlife. It was kind of Louis’ thing.

These weren’t for him, though. So he grabbed a deluxe pack of standard, lubed condoms, and turned around to go pay for them.

“There you are!” Harry exclaimed, approaching him with a tiny piñata in his arms. He stopped short when he saw what Louis was holding, though. “Oh- Is that- Are those… Um.”

Louis stood there, a little confused at Harry’s flustered reaction. And then even more confused by the way Harry’s eyes seemed to fill with tears.

“Uh, Harry… Are you okay?”

“Fuck, I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said in a self-deprecating way, furiously blinking and wiping away tears before they fell. “Look, I found this really small piñata, it’s so cute.” His voice was shaky and it cracked when he said, “Niall thinks we should name it after you.”

“Niall can go fuck himself,” Louis muttered, although he was much more concerned with whatever had Harry bursting into tears at the sight of a box of condoms. Unless it was something else. What the hell was going on?

Harry pressed the tiny piñata into Louis’ free hand, before closing his eyes on a long inhale and walking away.

Standing there dumbfounded for a moment, he stared at the empty aisle and then the box he was holding. And the cute piñata that Harry picked out just to show him. It was the piñata that made him jump into action, power-walking through the store to try to find his best friend, who was apparently distressed and upset.

He couldn’t find him anywhere, though.

“Niall! Have you seen Harry?”

“Uh, yeah. I saw him heading towards the back, and he looked upset. What the fuck did you do?”

“What- Why do you immediately assume it’s my fault?”

“Because you’re, like, the only person on earth who makes him cry on a consistent basis.”

Louis’ jaw dropped to the floor. “What? You’re kidding me.”

First of all, Harry cried over everything. A sappy movie, a Save The Bees sign, a marriage proposal between strangers, a little kid learning how to ride a bike. The list went on. He cried over the news, over all the stories of the horrible things that happened in the world every day. He was the most empathetic person ever and he cried a lot, okay—but Louis was _never_ the one at fault.

“I’m really not,” Niall challenged, folding his arms over his chest.

“What- What do you mean?”

“Look, Louis. I love you a lot, okay? You’re one of my best friends. And I honestly don’t know why he’s upset right now. But given the amount of times he’s come to me, sobbing himself sick over _you,_ I can make a pretty good guess as to why he’s crying right now.”

Through all of the confusion, it kind of, a little bit, felt like the world was crashing down around him.

“I- I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about right now.”

Niall shook his head. “You cannot be this dense. We both know the way he acts around you, the way he fucking looks at you, there’s no way you can’t see it. I get it if you don’t love him back or whatever, I mean, that’s real fucking shitty but it’s not your fault, I guess, whatever. Doesn’t fucking matter. But what _is_ your fault is you leading him on and making him believe he has a chance with you and then suddenly you turn around and fuck some stranger, some guy you don’t even care about, and you talk about it around him like it’s _funny_. I don’t get it, Louis. I don’t think you’re cruel so I have no idea why you’re acting like it.”

Louis pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to muffle his sound of distress. It was a choked kind of sob that sounded almost as bad as the way he felt, like there was all this weight in him, crushing him from the inside out. He felt sick to his stomach, confused and not processing Niall’s words, not fully at least.

“Why would he… I didn’t _do_ anything, though. He just came up to me and started crying.”

“Look, I said I don’t know.”

Louis looked away sharply and bit his lip, feeling tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry, he had no idea what was going on.

Without saying anything else, he spun on his heel and forced himself through to the back of the store, where Niall said he saw Harry headed. It was deserted, no one under the bright fluorescents, just the wall of milk and other dairy products staring back at him. He caught the measly sign for the bathrooms, though, and rushed towards them, pushing the door open without knowing what to expect beyond it.

Harry was there. It was sort of a “thank god” moment, until Louis saw the state he was in.

“Harry…” he breathed, crossing the room. They both stared at each other for a moment, only a foot away, Harry’s red-rimmed eyes mirroring Louis’ panicked ones. Without thinking about it, he pulled Harry into his arms.

“Lou, I- I need some space.”

Louis clung for one last selfish moment, before he forced himself to let go. He took a polite step backwards and tried to catch Harry’s eyes again, but he was looking at the wall, the sink, the floor, anywhere but Louis.

He still had no idea what was going on but he had that crushing, sinking feeling that it really was his fault.

“Sorry, I’m being so stupid,” Harry sniffled, pawing at his cheeks. He tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.

“H… Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Harry shook his head. “It’s stupid. I overreacted, I’m an idiot, I’m a big baby and I shouldn’t be crying right now.”

“Don’t say that about yourself, it’s not true.” Niall’s words were ringing in his head. _You’re the only person on earth who makes him cry on a consistent basis. I don’t think you’re cruel so I have no idea why you’re acting like it._ “Look… It’s something I did, right?”

Harry shook his head insistently. “No, no, it’s not- It’s me.”

“Okaay, but something I did made you upset. And I don’t know what, because _I’m_ dumb and I’m missing something here, and I would really love it if you filled me in. So that maybe I can fix it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Please, H,” Louis pleaded.

“I don’t- It’s so stupid. It’ll ruin everything. You’ll think I’m so pathetic.”

“I would never think that. You know I would never think that.”

Harry shook his head, chewing on his thumbnail. It was quiet for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath to steel himself.

He kept his eyes closed and all in one breath he said, “You’re buying condoms. And they’re for the guy who gave you his number at the diner, right? I mean, obviously. Unless there’s someone else, I guess, but the point is… The point is, I’m just really dumb because I know you’re allowed to like people and be sexually active and try to find love with other people because we’re- We’re just friends. And I’m okay with that. I really am, I promise. I’m trying so hard to not make this weird for you, even though I know my crush on you is so stupidly, embarrassingly obvious. And you’re so great about it, you treat me like your best friend even though it must be uncomfortable knowing I like you a lot more than you like me. It’s just- It caught me off guard, and it hurts so much thinking about you with other people, because- Because I know I could never have that, and. I’m just so sorry. Can we please forget about this?”

Louis was more than a little speechless. He leant back against the sink, and just stared at Harry.

It took a moment before he regained the faculties to formulate a sentence. When he did, it was this:

“I was buying the condoms for Liam and Zayn. As a prank. Or like, a joke I guess. I was going to give them to Liam and tease him about Zayn, or whatever. It sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud, and actually I’m thinking I shouldn’t do that, but yeah. That was why… That was why I had them. They weren’t for me.”

“...What?”

“Yeah.” Louis said. There were a few more important things to say, but he had no idea how to say them. So he focused on another unimportant thing. “Um, also, I threw that guy’s number away. Which is rude, but I was never gonna call him anyway. So you don’t have to worry about me and him.”

Harry’s chest heaved with a sharp exhale. “Oh.”

“Yeah. So… Yeah.”

“Um. Okay. I’m just gonna-” he pointed to the door, “sit in Patricia, I guess. You should get the condoms, though. It’ll be funny.”

“Alright.”

Harry spun on his heel and disappeared.

Louis stared at the white tile wall and wondered _what the hell_ just happened.

 

          &&&

 

The ride back to Zayn’s was tense. Louis forgot to plug his phone into the aux before he started driving, so it was completely silent except for the tires on the rain-slick road. He couldn’t even open the window for a bit of fresh air, because the rain was coming down steadily now. Washington weather, and all of that.

Niall refused to speak. He stared straight ahead and emitted an air of annoyance.

Louis was too nervous to speak. And confused, and wondering if he heard Harry right. Wondering how to handle the mountains of explanations and apologies that were undoubtedly necessary. He was sick to his stomach, knowing he had caused Harry so much pain. Not just today but throughout the years he had known him.

_You’re, like, the only person on earth who makes him cry on a consistent basis_

Harry was too sad to speak. He sat in the back, and through the rearview mirror Louis caught glimpses of him resting his head on the window and staring listlessly at the passing scenery. It was all very depressing.

Louis was beating himself up. He knew there was an obvious solution, a way to make them both happy instead of this horrible self-deprecating nonsense, but it was so scary. The possibility of losing it all was so scary. It nearly paralyzed Louis with fear.

“Loamy! We got you a gift!” he announced as soon as they stepped inside, the door slamming behind them. He chucked the box of condoms at Liam’s chest. Those damn condoms. Louis loved and hated them, and it had nothing to do with the condoms themselves, but all the trouble they had just caused.

Liam fumbled with the box before he saw what they were. “What- the fuck is _wrong_ with you?”

“Safety first. Use them wisely,” Louis advised, not feeling his usual sense of bravado.

Zayn was laughing, though. Liam was blushing so hard his face was the color of the seats at that 50’s diner in Sacramento. That stupid, cursed 50’s diner in Sacramento.

The joke didn’t feel worth it, for all the trouble that resulted, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

“I like him,” Zayn said to Liam, talking about Louis. Then they kissed right there, in front of everyone.

“Alright, well, I think that’s your cue to take it to the bedroom,” Louis said cheerily, shoving them in the direction of the hallway. “See you tomorrow! And remember, we’re only a room away, so we would really appreciate it if you kept it down. Great, thanks. Bye!”

They disappeared down the hall. It was both a gift and a curse, though, because then there were three.

Niall unfurled his sleeping bag on the floor in front of the TV. He was leaving the couch open for either Louis or Harry, which was nice of him. “I think I’m calling it a night too.”

“Me too-”

“Hey, Harry, you heard Zayn talking about that trail out back, right? I know it’s dark outside, but I think we could find it. Might be nice to check out the big ass trees and stuff before we have to leave tomorrow. Early morning, and all that.”

“We don’t have to leave ‘till noon, actually,” Niall added unhelpfully.

“Well, still. A nighttime walk might be cool.” Louis knew he had a stupidly hopeful expression on his face.

Harry wouldn’t turn to face him, though. All Louis saw was his back. Broad shoulders hunched in on himself like he was self-conscious.

“I’m pretty tired, actually. I think I’m just gonna go to sleep. You don’t mind if I take the couch, right?”

“You should definitely have it, because of your back,” Louis assured, momentarily distracted. He shook his head. “I’d really like to talk to you, though. Outside. We don’t have to walk if you don’t want to, but it might be easier, and the trees really are cool…”

“Louis, really-”

“Please. Harry.” He would beg if he had to. He kind of already was.

“Alright, fine. Just a short walk though.”

“Okay.” It would be enough.

 

          &&&

 

They made ridiculous, annoying small talk all the way through the grass of Zayn’s back yard and during the first five minutes on the trail riddled with roots and rocks to trip over.

Harry almost tripped a million times, the risk so much that Louis ended up keeping a hand twisted in the back of his sunny yellow parka, so he could yank him back if necessary. It was necessary at least a dozen times in five minutes.

Then Harry tripped really badly and the rain-slick material of his jacket slipped between Louis’ fingers. He ended up skidding on his hands and knees, nearly bashing his forehead into a rock. It was exactly the kind of sad, humiliating thing neither of them needed right now.

A laugh slipped out of Louis’ mouth before he could filter it, a product of hysteria rather than amusement.

“Christ. Fuck. Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. This isn’t funny. This was a bad idea. I’m so sorry. I just wanted somewhere we could talk in private, fuck, this is horrible. You’re shivering. Your palms are bleeding, fuck. We should go back. Harry...”

Harry eased himself into a steady position and scooted his butt back to lean against the thick trunk of a big tree. He tipped his head back against the trunk and closed his eyes, appearing surprisingly zenlike in the misfortunate turn of events.

Louis knelt down beside him, taking his hands. “I’m so sorry. This is the worst day ever.”

Harry laughed a little. Louis could barely make out his face in the dull light of the solar-powered lantern he brought with them, in the hopes that it would help them not trip over roots and scrape their palms up on rocks. But he could see that his eyes were still closed and his face was wet with rain. Louis squeezed his hands tighter.

“You know, this isn’t even the worst time I cried over you. Nor is it the stupidest. Which is saying something.”

Louis’ heart shattered. It had been cracking all night, but Harry confirming his worst fear was the hammer that broke it to pieces.

“I’m an idiot,” Louis said, feeling Harry try to pull his hands away.

He held on tighter, too chicken to let go. Chicken. Coward. Louis was a coward.

He said it out loud. “I’m a coward. I’m really stupid and selfish and I’ve been hurting you for so long. I didn’t even realize it. I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Free solo climber. Bandmember, musician, artist. Mechanic, in love with his stupid fucking personified van. Big brother of five younger sisters. The guy who loved to take risks for the thrill of it, climbed enormous rock structures without any gear because he was confident and brave, started a band with his best friends because even though it was uncertain he had faith that they would make it big if they just took the leap, basically acted as the father-figure for his siblings because their dad just wasn’t around.

Best friend of the boy he loved. The boy he was too afraid to tell he loved.

Risk taker, but only sometimes. Only when it was convenient, only when he was confident. Coward.

“You don’t have to apologize, Louis. This is all on me.”

He wanted to take Harry’s face in his hands, hold it closely and softly, but that would’ve been crossing a line. Instead, he squeezed Harry’s hand again, which had gone limp since he tried to pull away, long, delicate fingers resting lightly in Louis’ grasp.

“No. It’s not your fault. It’s definitely mine. I have to tell you something, something I never told you before. It might not make sense at first but I promise it swings back around to the point I’m trying to make.”

Harry stayed quiet, and it was enough permission for him to dive into it.

“The details aren’t important, so I’ll just try to sum it up, but. I had a childhood best friend. Neighbors, grew up together, all that. Realized we were gay together. I mean, kinda. It felt like he was always one step ahead of me, but I digress. When we were in high school, I realized I was falling in love with him. Or maybe I already had. I don’t know.”

“I’d really rather not hear about this-”

“I swear it’s important, Harry, please. I was in love with him and I was braver back then about love, so I told him. And it turns out he was kinda in love with me too, so we started dating, or like, we were in a relationship. It lasted for three years. It was great, until it wasn’t. I won’t bore you with the details, but we fell apart, right before college. Our breakup was horrible. It ruined our friendship. Totally obliterated it. We despised each other, never wanted to see each other again.”

Louis remembered it clear as day, the feeling of loss, the feeling of bereavement. He knew it like the back of his hand now, a feeling that clung to him like the Washington mist. Cold, wet, harsh. Being left alone. Being left lonely. It was petty and dramatic but it hurt so fucking bad, losing the person he had relied on his entire life. Having to carry on, feeling lost and confused, feeling so fucking alone.

“I’m not trying to make this into some sob story. And I know it was a stupid, fickle high school relationship, that it doesn’t matter, that it was never meant to last, but it really- It was really important to me. It messed me up so bad, Harry. Losing my best friend, the one person I could count on and trust, the one person I really, really loved. We had been friends our entire lives, we grew up together, we loved each other, and then nothing. It was over. Hate, disgust, trying to forget each other, trying to move on. It fucked me up so bad.”

“Lou, I get it. It’s okay.”

Harry’s blood was smearing onto Louis’ palms. They really needed to go inside.

“What I did to you isn’t okay, though,” he argued, looking into Harry’s eyes now.

He had to be brave about this, not for himself, but for Harry. Because he had been hurting him for years now and that was the last thing he wanted to do, to end something before it even began and hurt them all the same.

In the end, it was easier to say than he expected. The words flowed out easily, as a promise, as an apology.

“I love you so much, Harry. More than just platonically. More than just romantically, too. Like, it’s not just friendship, or lust, or romance. It’s so, so much deeper than that. Which is fucking crazy but I don’t care-”

“Lou-”

Misting down on them was the unforgiving rain, wetting their pale skin with dewdrops that glistened in the lantern’s unnatural blue glow. They were cold and shaking, wrought with spilled blood and fresh tears. So many tears, dripping down their faces and mixing with the rain.

“I don’t want to be scared of it anymore. I just want to love you.”

The clouds above them were comforting, a blanket to muffle the impact. The trees around them listened with soft, loving consciences.

“We should get inside,” Harry whispered, gentle enough to not break the spell. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“So are you.” It wasn’t from the cold.

Louis helped him up. Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulder, maybe as a gesture of comfort, more likely to support himself from falling again.

Aside from the roots and rocks, the trail was soft, littered with pine needles that muffled their messy footfalls. They moved slowly, methodically, and didn’t speak.

“Will you go sit in the bathroom? I want to get a fire started in the fireplace, and then I’ll meet you there.”

Harry smiled. It was small, but it was there.

 

          &&&

 

“Ah, here it is.” He held up the first-aid kit, glad to find bandages and antiseptic inside.

“I feel like I’m in an action film. Like, the part where the fight is over and the romantic interest is tending to the superhero’s wounds.”

Lips quirking upwards, Louis guided Harry’s hands under the sink to wash away the blood. “You’d be a great superhero.”

“I’d be horrible,” Harry laughed. He was sitting on the countertop in Zayn’s bathroom, hair still damp from the rain outside, and he looked so, so gorgeous. “You know I hate conflict more than anything. You’d be a great romantic interest, though. You are one, I mean.”

“Pretty shitty one, if you ask me,” Louis huffed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to be self-pitying. I just mean that I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

“You treated me wonderfully, Louis. I’m in love with you because you’re a great person, you’re so kindhearted, so lovely. I’m sorry for not being brave enough to speak up either. It’s a two-way street, you know.”

Louis choked on his breath and nearly died from the resulting coughing fit.

Harry grinned. “Should I say it again? I’m in love with you.”

There was a warmth at that particular thread of words, a pacifying comfort that rippled under his skin. He was still so scared of it, of this blowing up in their faces just like his last relationship which nearly killed him. He was still so scared of it, but Harry was making him realize that he was even _more_ afraid of never having the chance in the first place.

“You should’ve told me about what happened sooner, Lou. I would’ve- I think I would’ve understood, at least a little bit. It doesn’t have to be like that. It doesn’t have to end.”

Dabbing antiseptic to the raw skin of Harry’s palms, he stayed quiet. There were a million doubts swirling in his head, all the same insecurities that had defined him as a person ever since he lost what he loved most. Those insecurities would probably never go away, but they could be overpowered, by forces like trust and hope.

“But you- It’s mutual, right? I mean-”

“I’ve liked you ever since we fought over that stupid album and nearly got kicked out of the record store.”

“Don’t call Bon Iver stupid,” Harry pouted. “I fell in love to that album.”

That was… That was a really good feeling. It was familiar, in some ways, as love was, but also wholeheartedly new.

Louis focused very intently on wrapping the bandages around Harry’s palms. He felt so bad about it. Walking on that trail, treacherous as it was, in the dark and the rain, had been a bad idea. Yet they would always remember it as the place where they finally figured it out.

Once Harry’s hands were taken care of, he curled his fingers around Louis’. The touch was soft and comforting, a warm pressure that said he wasn’t alone. He didn’t have to be alone, not anymore, not if he didn’t want to be. Harry didn’t have to be alone anymore either. He didn’t have to pine over some stupid asshole who blithely ignored every sign of his affection because he was a coward.

Their faces were close together. Harry was sitting on the counter still, so Louis had to crane his neck upward. It would’ve been kind of funny, if the moment hadn’t been so charged. There was an electricity in the air, though, a tension, something he knew they both felt.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you, Lou.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Harry nodded. The moment of permission was all very tender and sweet. They met each other halfway, Harry ducking down, Louis reaching up. Their lips collided in a soft, tentative gesture, and it was all Louis had never allowed himself to imagine. His body was alight with flames, the feeling of happiness scorching through him like a wildfire.

He wound his arms around Harry’s neck, unwilling to let go. Harry spread his thighs to make room for him, setting his big hands on his hips. Pulling him closer.

 

          &&&

 

“It’s Harry’s turn to drive.”

“Harry drives like a grandpa.”

“Harry also dresses like a grandpa.”

“I hate all of you.”

Louis patted his shoulder placatingly before handing him the keys. “I can navigate today, if it makes you feel any better.”

“How will we ever get anywhere when you two are so busy flirting?”

Louis spun around. “You’re one to talk, Liam. Do I need to bring up breakfast yesterday morning? I can’t believe we all had to witness that.”

After Louis and Harry made out in the bathroom for a while two nights ago, they wandered back into the living room and sat in front of the fire, talking things through and trying to figure it out. And kissing, a lot, of course. They had to keep it down because Niall was asleep, and they managed.

By the time they were both dead on their feet, they finally went to bed. Harry lied on his stomach on the couch, one arm hanging down, clinging to Louis’ hand. They had the pleasure of staring at each other’s sleepy faces before they both passed out for good.

In the morning, everyone slept in. That was par for the course for Louis and Niall, and Zayn apparently, but for people like Harry and Liam who liked to get up at the crack of dawn, it was definitely out of character. Tour had really been taking a toll on all of them, as did the emotional events of last night.

Louis sat on the counter, swinging his legs, while Harry made eggs and bacon in the unfamiliar kitchen. Niall was in charge of the toaster, and ended up burning three slices of bread before he got one right. Liam and Zayn appeared together, freshly showered. Louis had never met someone so unabashed about the fact that his neck was covered in hickies, but there Zayn was, looking like he had gotten mauled by a bear and not even trying to hide it.

Louis was kind of horrified, but. He liked Zayn. Zayn was chill and funny and liked to cause trouble, which meant he was exactly the person for Louis to befriend. Besides, he and Liam were cute together. It was undeniable.

They were already back on the road, and had spent last night in the van again, in Idaho. The plan was to spend today in Yellowstone before driving south to Salt Lake City tomorrow.

Last night had been cold, too, uncharacteristic for the summertime temperatures. The four of them had huddled together in Patricia, piling up the blankets and adding on layers of sweats to their outfits.

It was still so fucking cold, though, and Louis now had a sort-of boyfriend whose body was always warm like a furnace. So Louis squeezed into his sleeping bag with him, and they held each other through the night. In the morning, Louis had woken up with his nose buried in Harry’s chest, all of their limbs tangled together.

Harry held him close in his sleep, too, like he was sheltering him from the world. A strong arm wound around his back, a heavy leg thrown over his hip. Louis felt absolutely shielded and sheltered by the protective body of the man he loved, and it was magical.

“I love how you love that atlas so much,” Harry said with a bit of laughter. It was a sunny day, but they were facing away from it, so he had his shades pushing his hair back instead. Louis wanted to run his fingers through his curls. The realization that he could do exactly that without it being weird was startling. He kept his hands to himself, but only because Harry was driving and needed to concentrate on the road.

The old atlas from the glove compartment rested on his lap, open to the map of Idaho. Louis had never been this far north or west before, and he was kind of amazed at how beautiful it was. Everything felt like a dream.

“It’s cool to see where we are on the map,” Louis defended. “Plus, if the GPS stops working again, I’ll know exactly where we are.”

“Christ, that feels like a long time ago. It was just, like, a week or two ago, though. New Mexico.”

“Sleeping under the stars,” Louis agreed.

“I was _so_ in love with you that night. More than usual.”

Louis smiled to himself, and then he remembered something. “Wait. The reason you were so- What you were talking about that night was-”

“It was you,” Harry confirmed, shaking his head and biting back a grin. “Not my smartest move, but you were pestering me.”

“H, I’m so sorry about everything-”

“Don’t be. We were both idiots. I was too concerned with, like, what I thought was unrequited love, to even notice what was going on. It’s okay. We’ve sorted it out now. Let’s just be happy.”

 _Let’s just be happy._ Louis liked that.

“That stupid conversation about taking risks and climbing a fucking cliff,” he laughed, remembering the pieces and putting them together finally. “Being a day hiker versus a skilled climber. Not knowing if the cliff wanted you to climb it.”

Harry slid his shades down on his face, covering his eyes. “You’re the cliff, if you hadn’t caught on yet.”

“You’re the skilled climber. Very skilled. Definitely not just a day hiker. Or what did you say? An annoying tourist?”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I’m gonna puke if you two keep this up,” Niall said from the back, and Liam chimed in, in agreement. “This is the weirdest flirting I’ve ever witnessed. The worst.”

Louis turned up the music to drown him out. They listened to Neil Young all the way to Yellowstone.

 

          &&&

 

“Thank you, Salt Lake City! Come talk to us after, we’ll be by the bar.”

With the crowd’s laughter at Harry’s finger guns towards the bar, Liam started up the drumbeat and they played their last song.

Despite the fact that his skinny jeans were clinging to him with sweat, Louis loved playing at outdoor venues, and this one was no exception. It was almost sundown, and the sky cast the world in a pink and orange glow.

From where Louis was situated at his keyboard, jamming along, he had a perfect, unobstructed view of Harry singing and dancing like crazy, fluttering all over the stage in the golden light.

At the height of the song, Harry skidded over to him, and they danced together, each move sillier and more absurd than the last. The crowd laughed and hollered.

He was beautiful and ridiculous, and Louis was so in love with him.

As soon as the show was over and they ran off stage, Louis attacked him in a bruising kiss full of enthusiasm and passion. Harry manhandled him backwards, pinning him up against a box of equipment and kissing him senseless.

It morphed into something a little too heated for a public setting, but they were partially covered by the curtains backstage so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Besides, it was the most privacy they’d had all tour. Living in a van with their two other bandmates didn’t really give a lot of opportunity for what they really wanted to do.

“Can’t believe I had to go without touching you like this all this time,” Harry murmured into his mouth, parting his lips again to kiss him hard and messy. He had one hand on Louis’ jaw, soft and demanding all at once, the other one feeling up his ass. “Ever since we first met. Little punk hippie in the record store.”

“Pretentious hipster wannabe,” Louis challenged, fingers twisting in Harry’s Britney Spears t-shirt. “Wearing a fucking wide-brimmed fedora like you were in a Halsey music video or some shit. Trying to steal my vinyl and distract me by flirting.”

Harry was smug as he slipped his fingers into Louis’ back pocket and rolled their hips together. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, five years later. Loved you all this time, though. Think I fell in love the first time we wrote songs together,” Louis admitted, remembering the time he went over to Harry’s place and they tried songwriting together for the first time. They spent all day in Harry’s sunroom with the windows open, Louis sitting at the gorgeous piano Harry had but couldn’t play, Harry sitting on the floor with his black Gibson 1991 Dove acoustic resting on his lap.

“All those love songs. Was writing about you.”

Louis buried his face in Harry’s neck, breathing him in. Harry held him there, against the sound equipment, and they were pressed so close together, Louis could feel Harry’s heart beating against his own.

Just yesterday, at Yellowstone, they had set up a blanket on the edge of the water, overlooking the beautiful view, away from everyone else. They took their shirts off to get some sun and lay next to each other, talking through everything and making sure they were on the same page. It was just as honest and intimate as any other one-on-one conversation they had ever had, and that was what eased the ever-present worry in Louis’ heart. They were already there. They had acted like lovers for the past five years, even if Louis never admitted it to himself. They didn’t need to change anything.

He still felt horrible for being purposefully obtuse, for ignoring every way Harry said _I am in love with you_ through his actions. It was apparent, it was obvious, it had always been there. Louis had just been afraid of losing him and ruining everything, but he was trying to be brave now. It would be worth it.

They couldn’t guarantee the future. They couldn’t promise everything, because shit happened. Life happened. The future was uncertain. That was what was so beautiful about it.

“You’re such a rockstar, you know that? It’s fucking hot.”

“So are you,” Harry insisted, palming him through his jeans. “We’re both in the same rock band.”

Not his jeans—they were Harry’s jeans, because he had run out and they were in need of a laundromat sometime soon. They were Harry’s favorite pair, too, worn and well-loved with holes in the knees. There had been a huge ordeal about it before their set today, when Louis got dressed and Harry stared at him, speechless, for ten minutes straight before finally pulling him into a vibrant kiss.

“Yeah, but you’re the one who plays electric. I’m on the keyboard. Much more alternative.”

“My artsy, talented alternative boyfriend.”

Louis rubbed his back, pressing himself even closer and rocking them side to side in a tight, clinging hug. “My handsome rockstar boyfriend. Love you so much.”

“Love you too. You’re ridiculous, though. Remember when we were in Texas, at the waterfall? And you were, like, brilliantly naked and teasing me.”

“Oh my god,” he blushed, recalling how he had stripped without hesitation, since he had never been uncomfortable with nakedness even around his friends. Poor Harry, though. “I was trying to be funny!”

“You’re lucky I have self-control,” Harry whispered, causing Louis to shiver.

“How about every time you touched my ass trying to get me on Patty’s roof, huh?”

“Can’t blame me. Your ass is out of this world.”

“Alright, fine.” He would accept that.

“Also, when you gave me a back massage.”

“The way you moaned…” Louis muttered. “You were doing that on purpose.”

“Maybe,” Harry grinned. “Had to get you to like me somehow.”

“I was already in love with you, idiot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Louis kissed him again just to shut him up.

 

          &&&

 

Only halfway through tour, they still had about a month and a half on the road, living out of the 1975 VW bus and the occasional cheap motel.

Road life was just as challenging as everyone promised it would be, but Louis fell in love with it, just like he fell in love with Harry all over again during the second half of their cross-country tour. Now that they were open and honest about their feelings, everything was easier.

As for the band, their fanbase increased with each show. They gained thousands of followers on their social media accounts each performance, and soon they were all overwhelmed with the sheer love and support from people all over the country.

The newfound fame was great, but they would always remember their first few shows back home in Atlanta, the city where they all grew up. The city that was their home. Playing to small crowds in a dark, smoky bar. Loving how it felt to be _heard._

In a few weeks, One Direction would be performing in NYC for their biggest show yet. All of their families were flying in to see their show. Louis was elated, because homesickness crept in during the moments he wasn’t expecting it, and he really did miss his mom and sisters.

Also, he would get to introduce Harry to them as his boyfriend. They had already met a few times, and they loved him of course, because it was impossible not to love Harry Styles. So there was nothing to worry about, and it was only excitement and anticipation Louis felt when he thought about it.

Not to mention so, so much love.

 

 

 

          DELETED SCENE

 

“Your turn,” Harry called as he stepped out of the shower, steam billowing towards the ceiling.

Under the bathroom fluorescents, he was all shimmering water droplets and vast expanses of sun-kissed skin, his hair darkened and dripping over his shoulders. He had a fluffy white towel wrapped around him, showcasing a slip of smooth thighs, and Louis had to deliberately look away before he did something stupid, like fall to his knees in front of him just to leave kisses and bites all over his shower-warm skin.

“Thanks, love.” Louis kissed him on the cheek as he passed, couldn’t keep his lips to himself but he managed not to jump him, so that had to count for something.

Twenty minutes ago, Louis had been brushing his teeth while Harry stripped out of his performance clothes before hopping in the shower. Louis watched him undress in the mirror and brushed his teeth harder when he felt flush under the color of his t-shirt. Harry was still a little shy about being naked around Louis, so he averted his eyes politely and tried to focus on the foaming toothpaste in his mouth.

“Why don’t you go relax in bed? I won’t be too long.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” Harry grinned, boldly trailing his eyes over his body as he removed his olive green henley, the one Harry picked out for him when they went thrifting in Seattle before the show.

Louis blew him a kiss and stepped into the shower, forcing the curtain shut. He had to lean against the cold tile wall and close his eyes for a moment. Harry would be the death of him.

They were in Colorado, still touring, and still learning each other and their relationship. He was definitely still in the stage where every little look and touch from Harry made Louis’ nerves light up like a Christmas tree, tingling with pleasure. Louis knew it was cheesy, but when they kissed, it was like that night in New Mexico, staring up at the night sky and feeling the immensity of the universe, seeing all those stars shimmer and shake. That warmth, that momentousness, he felt it every time they kissed. And they kissed a lot.

The band was staying in a bed and breakfast tonight, a big lodge-style house in the mountains, and they had splurged on two rooms. Before the four of them split up for the night, Liam and Niall teased them relentlessly and also begged not to hear any details tomorrow morning. Tonight was the first night he and Harry would have an entire room to themselves, completely alone, and, well. There were certain activities they were quite excited about, and only half-heartedly trying to hide it.

With steady hands, Louis washed his hair and enjoyed the perfect water pressure against his skin. Van life was idyllic in so many ways, but the lack of plumbing would always be an annoyance. What he loved about it, though, was that living on the road made even the most basic amenities seem like the greatest luxuries.

For example, the queen-sized bed with fresh sheets and a soft quilt waiting for him after his shower. The bed—and his boyfriend on top of it.

God, Louis was feeling lightheaded just at the thought of what was to come. He reached a hand down and squeezed the base of his cock, and vaguely considered jacking off but decided against it. He and Harry had debated showering together, but it didn’t seem like the best idea to have their first time in a slippery, cramped space. Louis wanted to give his boyfriend something better than that, wanted to give him the comforts of the bed and the sheets and the ability to cuddle and nap afterwards.

Also, Harry had mentioned something about never having experienced good shower sex. Something always went wrong: the water washed the lube away, or the lube spilled on the floor and made it too slippery to stand on, or he tried to give a blowjob and ended up nearly drowning in the process. All throughout their friendship, Harry only vaguely alluded to his bedroom activities with other men, so Louis was surprised to hear this, and immediately latched on to the challenge.

“Well, if you’re up for it, I’d love to see if we could give you a better shower sex experience,” Louis had offered, casually, though his heart was thudding in his chest and he was pretty sure Harry could tell. Harry had just smiled at him, that shy smile that reminded Louis of his likeness to the moon, for some reason. And then they made out against the wall for a while, and then Harry pulled away to take a shower, and here they were now.

By the time Louis toweled off, he was jittery with excitement. Maybe a bit of nervousness, too, but the good kind of nervousness. He wasn’t sure if he should put clothes on or not, considering they were about to get naked, but figured he should, for appearance’s sake.

When he opened the bathroom door, his eyes fell on Harry standing beside the bed, dressed in adidas joggers and a black hoodie with the strings tied into a bow. He was bent over the old mahogany desk by the window which overlooked the dark forest and the mountaintops in the distance, and he was sliding a vinyl record out of its sleeve.

“You lovely person,” Louis murmured, inching closer to him until he could wrap his arms around Harry’s narrow waist and hug him from behind. “I know see why you insisted we lug this thing all the way up here. What’re we gonna listen to?”

Harry tilted the album over so Louis could see the simple black cover with a big white ‘x’ in the center. Quietly, he said, “Always wanted to fuck to this album.”

Louis squeezed him tighter, nuzzling his face into his broad back, pressing against his shoulderblades. “Me too. Favorite song?”

“Either Infinity or Night Time.”

“The two sexiest songs on the album. That’s fair.” Louis slipped the tips of his fingers under Harry’s hoodie. He wasn’t surprised to find bare skin there, no t-shirt or anything to hinder the contact. “They’re both at the end of the record, though. Think you can last that long?”

Harry huffed, and set the needle on the vinyl, spinning around in Louis’ arms only to push him toward the bed. The angsty instrumentals filled the room and Louis had to bite his lip to hold back a smirk.

“Think  _ you _ can last that long?”

“Come here,” he beckoned, ignoring Harry’s gentle taunting. He guided Harry to the middle of the bed, making sure he was comfortable before he kissed his lips quickly and pulled away. “I have an idea. Sit still.”

“Bossy.”

“You like it,” Louis winked, digging through his bag. Earlier, when they were still in the van and Harry was busy driving, he snuck a few candles into the side pocket in anticipation for this exact moment. Now, he scattered them over the nightstand and used his lighter to catch the flame, casting the room in a romantic glow. The scent of roses and vanilla began to diffuse through the space, and it mixed with the comforting fragrance of old wood and the pine forests outside.

When he looked back over to the bed, Harry was staring at him with a fierce yet dreamy look on his face.

“I love you,” he declared, the words ringing in the air.

It wasn’t startling to hear it, it never had been. They’d been saying  _ I love you _ for years, because they were best friends, closer than most. They wrote love songs together, they laughed over jokes no one else found funny, they understood each other like no one else did. Now, the simple declaration had a weightier meaning, and it was welcomed.

“I love you,” Louis echoed, climbing on top of him and pressing him flat to the mattress, kissing him hungry and hard. “So much.”

He had more to say but he kept the sappy sentences to himself, pouring the feelings into their kisses instead.  _ I want to love you, take care of you, keep you safe. I want to make you happy. I want to protect you. _

He licked, sucked, and bit at Harry’s neck, leaving behind a trail of lovebites as he moved downward. With each brush of his teeth, Harry moaned, low and needy, encouraging for more. Lifting up his hoodie, he pressed kisses all over his laurels, nuzzling into his skin and breathing him in. Harry was already breathing heavily, grasping the sheets with one hand and Louis’ hair with the other, head tilted back toward the ceiling and eyes closed in pleasure.

He was distracted enough that Louis could help him out of his hoodie, tossing it to the side and admiring the beautiful body spread out in front of him. All at once, a million ideas for new song lyrics flooded his mind. He ran his hands up Harry’s sides and only had a moment more to take in the gorgeous sight  of him before Harry latched his hands around his neck to yank him down into a bruising kiss.

“How do you want to do this? What do you want to do?”

“Everything, everything,” Harry gasped, rolling them over so they were on their sides, legs entwined. “We have all night.”

Louis ran his fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, still wet from the shower. Harry slid his hand up the back of Louis’ shirt, smoothing his large palm over the bumps of Louis’ spine, and the touch made him shiver, sending fissures of pleasure through his body. He felt warm and safe. Loved.

“That’s- very true.”

“Come here, baby. Come closer.”

Louis obliged, pressing himself as close as possible, until there was no distinguishing where he ended and Harry began. In that moment, they were one entity, wrapped up in each other, a beautiful mess of love and desire.

He got his mouth on Harry, unable to help himself, making sure it was nice and wet and delighting in all the noises he could draw from the man he loved. Moans, gasps, shudders, even the stillness of his breath in certain moments when Louis would suck lightly at the head or press his fingers into the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

Harry came with a tremor through his entire body, his legs tensing and trying to clamp closed, though Louis kept them pried open as he sucked him through it, pulling off just before it would become painful.

“Fuck,” Harry gasped, breathless, toward the ceiling, chest heaving. One hand was still tangled in Louis’ hair, having brushed his bangs out of his face when his hands were otherwise occupied. It was a sweet gesture. “Fuck, your  _ mouth _ . Get over here. Let me...”

Harry stayed limp and boneless on the bed, pulling Louis over to sit on his lap as he reached over to the side of the bed for the lube.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous. The sunset, the candles, the glow on your skin... “ He rubbed his thumb over his puckered hole, teasing his entrance. “Is this okay?”

“Your rings,” Louis tried, valiantly, to say, without his voice shaking. He only sort of failed. It was doubtful the lull of the music covered up how affected he was, but it was written all over his face too, and Harry’s eyes were trained on his expression like he never wanted to look away.

“On or off?”

“Some, these,” Louis said, gesturing a bit incoherently. He pointed at the ones he wanted Harry to keep, the smooth bands that wouldn’t catch on his skin. The sight of Harry removing the other rings one by one and placing them on the bedside table was enough to get him so hard he felt dizzy and in danger of toppling over, off Harry’s lap.

“Good now?”

“Yes, yes, please, come on.” He was still wearing his shirt, for some reason, and had that wherewithal to tear it off, discarding it to the side and delighting in the way Harry immediately grazed his free hand over his exposed hips and up higher, toward his chest, rubbing his thumb over the buds of his nipples. Louis tossed his head back and arched his spine, and that was when Harry pressed his lubed fingers inside him, splitting him open.

“So gorgeous. So fucking beautiful, Lou. Breathtaking. You’re doing so well.”

And so Harry took Louis apart with just his fingers, bringing him to the brink only to pull them out and wipe off the sticky lube on the sheets beside them. Louis whined in complaint, empty from the loss of Harry, but only momentarily, because soon he was rolling a condom over his cock and slicking it with lube, and then he was lifting Louis on top of him and Louis’ vision went sparkly white.

He leant forward, clutching Harry’s biceps as he sunk down. It was so overwhelming for both of them, they stopped moving for a moment and just looked into each other’s eyes and started laughing.

“This is so crazy.”

“I know. You’re so fucking hot. Christ. Look at you,” Harry groaned, wrapping his arms around Louis’ back to pull him to his chest and holding him there. “So many songs to write about you. So many I’ve already written about you. You inspire me to make music.”

“You, too. I’m trying not to forget the melody in my head so I can write it down after this.”

Harry laughed, grasping Louis’ hips to lift him up and then lower him back down, creating a rhythm which brought them back to panting breaths and moans. Louis obviously helped out by using his thighs, but Harry seemed more than happy to do most of the work, moving Louis just the way he wanted.

“Wanna fuck you after this,” Louis promised, cupping Harry’s cheek in his palm. “So you can- see how good you make me feel. Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes, want you so badly, want everything with you.”

He grabbed Harry’s hands and entwined their fingers, pinning them to the bed. “I love you. I love you. I love you-”

Harry echoed it right back, and there they were, a mess of limbs and sweat tangled in the sheets, making love to an album they adored, the gentle spin of the vinyl record heard in the background. When they both came, they held each other through the ecstasy of their orgasms, and collapsed in a burning hot heap.

Louis spooned Harry from behind, keeping one arm propped under his neck and the other wound around his waist, holding him close in a protective gesture. He kissed his shoulder lazily as Harry played with his fingers, and later while Harry dozed off, Louis pulled out his journal and began writing down some of his ideas. They were in the middle of tour, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t start working on new music now. Especially when the right inspiration struck, in the form of a dreamy man who made his heart flip in his chest with just a kiss or even a glance.

Tomorrow, they would wake up and lie in bed together in the morning light, breathing slowly and blinking with bleary eyes, and Louis would have Harry in his arms, warm and happy, satisfied from the previous night.

Tomorrow, they would be back on the road. It was Louis’ turn to drive, and he knew Harry would offer to navigate, because they were the dream team and they worked best when they were together, a pair, inseparable.

Tomorrow, they would return to the cramped space that Patricia offered, and the endless American roads on which they fell in love. Even though it was fleeting, the summer felt endless, full of promises.

Promises of blue skies, open windows, and that glowing feeling inside.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! All kudos and comments are appreciated. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> [Reblog the fic post](https://angelichl.tumblr.com/post/186334898239/you-are-half-of-me-and-i-am-all-for)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://angelichl.tumblr.com/)


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